I Will Walk Straight Into The Cold Ocean If I Sense You Don't Adore This

I wrote this for a depressed friend.

Needs all connected ineffable, all fees uncollected not collectable, travails of another person borne to settle like dust from a savage storm inside yourself to make you feel your love re-reflected until you’ve had enough, but it’s not enough it never would be you keep staring back into the darkness until a light relaxes into your eyes and your pupils dilate decreasing in size and your heart explodes in the good way into a million hearts and you feel something, anything, probably something better, probably something you could write about in a letter to someone important or someone that knows your soul bounces and flails about like an unfettered feather, although who needs fettered feathers when feathers fly and feathers flounce askance and feathers go anywhere they want anytime they want to dance?

 

For us our blessing, two hearts too thin and our blood an ocean opera rearing back for a massive wind and the wave that will carry us into the sun and perhaps to a happy place where, beyond it, we can see all our misery and pain and we can gather it all up, and they’ll wait for us with sturdy steel locks built for our fate, for us to bury our shame into a small steel box - it’s all smiles as we hear the click of the locks and we release all the f*****g hate and we relearn how to walk because in the gardens bathed in perfect light streaming down from the canopy sometimes you bounce and sometimes you find you’re exactly happy and free

 

A tear slowly rolling - a rivulet shining inside the sun, the sun shining so hard it kills the numb, the sun is slowing rolling down your cheek, effervescent as it runs, bless it when you care to, never mess with it like a perfect hairdo and be proper and always make sure you tuck in your halo and the wings that carry you

 

Flowers upon flowers upon petals upon petals, metallic dream factory lollipop creation machine, we keep the floors gleaming serene watch the magic pop out like bubble fun from a child’s mouth, no more ouch, get a bandaid, I have several, here is one you might just need to use to bandage up your mental, or maybe it’s a blanket you can curl up into it and sleep one perfect dream after another in the perfect dream blanket, it’s basically up to you, let this poem represent your happiness and if I did it wrong I’m sorry I’m unaccustomed to writing things that are about happy s**t J but I think it works, in fact I’ll make that a declarative on many levels because I said it did and god damn if happiness is anything but a poet writing poetry trying to give it away, trying to let it live…