Past the bandages and barricades
and all of the
ways you try to hide
behind your mask of settling
for less,
I can see through
you as
clearly as if
you were
the ocean
floor,
and all the
doubts you cover
yourself in
were the sea.
I know you
better than you
give me credit for.
You are a
glass-paned house’s
sidewalls
daring children
to throw their stones
knowing all
too well that they
will never hurt
you.
You’re the ending
seconds of a
rain delay;
hope watching
the clouds as if
waiting for the sky to fall.
Just rest
if only for a minute.
The Earth will catch it.
It’s not a burden
you have to shoulder
anymore.
So if you should
ever decide
to come in
out of the storm,
please
know
that
I’ll be waiting
here
with my empty
hands,
molded in the exact same shape
as yours.
I’m hopeless in line,
you’re hopeless in love,
we’re hopeless alone
and alive
and it might always
be that way,
but the world isn’t going to end
on fire –
we will.
We can extinguish
ourselves
on open mouth
wishing wells,
two kissing coins for stars,
looking out at
the ghost-trees
in behind the
satellite town.
This is not a love letter,
but a surrender song.
Just a dream
I had one night,
where it was only you
and me
and some old
and ancient fable
telling us
‘Don’t give up!
Tomorrow comes sooner
than you think. It’s just
the waiting that makes
it seem so far
away.
Dreamtalk
Written by William James
Published in
Poetry
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