Concrete.

I worry a lot about my feelings. I've often prided myself on knowing them, but I only had to because I knew I couldn't trust them otherwise. I worry I can't even now. (draft)

I dream and worry for the day
I stop writing poetry.

Poetry has always been an escape,
a way to figure out 
my what if's and why now's and
why her's, and yes her's
and bags heavy with secrets
hidden behind an orchestral mess
of nervous or fake laughter

It's like a suit,
skillfully pulling together an otherwise

awkward combination of skin and nerves

or 

a child's effort at paper mache 

layering frames of thoughts and feelings
I wish I could live out
or say

or express

or show

so

I dream for the day

I get to write my poetry 

into your skin,

the day i get to write 

into our laughter,

into our pain,

our broken hugs

and the reluctant departure
of fingertips and promises

I dream the day
you whisper songs
into the electricity of my body,

the warmth in my chest,

and the butterflies in my stomach;

I dream the day you tell them 

that you're finally
finally here. 

mostly 

i long for the day i can wrap up

all of this poetry 

into the pressure 

where my affection

meets yours

Reviews

[iamshadowine]

such beautiful lines!
"I dream for the day
I get to write my poetry
into your skin,
into our laughter,
into our pain,
our broken hugs
and unprepared departure
of fingertips and promises"
these lines are stuck in my head! amazingly done! keep writing :D

[introspicere]

i appreciate that, thanks!