poetry musings

He is made up of words that not anyone can understand;

his mind is a dictionary of sadness and heartache

and his heart is a poetry book for the hopeless.

He is the prettiest song,

the perfect sonnet,

the most meaningful haiku,

and the longest novel.

It takes a while to read him,

seconds to love him 

and a life time to forget him. 

the beginning

I wanted to write down everything that had happened, 

to see if by committing it to paper,

I could make some sense of it all.

Or perhaps I just needed to prove to everyone, even myself,

that I wasn't going crazy. 

I had to learn to believe this was real.

He had really said those things.

He really wanted those things. 

He professed that he wanted me in every way,

thats when I knew.

I was waiting for that moment of clarification

the single most important day of my life came to me like a dream

I feel like i had been waiting forever 

for that one touch 

that one kiss

that one.

I've found him.

This is it. 

little fuck

Take every little fuck

that you have been giving this world 

plant them all into the soil of your soul 

and grow a garden 

 as a matter of fact grow a forest

of humungous fucks and hoard them until

your soul becomes the 8th wonder of the world 

until everyone on this goddamned planet

pays a fuck for admission 

to tour your fucking individuality.