If we’re willing to bleed,
fight, die for one another
we owe it to them, live
really live, while we can
10.3.19
A life of writing
Is a marathon
Not a sprint
No one knows
Where it ends
Either way
9.18.19
sixth draft finished
hand-written notes
in margins, in purple
filled binder, in hopes
a kid threw a desk today
I pointed out he was mad
he made another kid sad
because they were fat and slow
asked him why and he blamed
everyone else, even the victim
so he flipped a table instead
of asking himself why am I
8.15.19
What else is there to do but
Take a knee and ask the girl
For real, this time, to marry you
6.4.19
Doubt lingers like dead weight
Heavy, cracking the ribs
Shaking an taped together heart
Will you be there
Will you be real
Will you tell me
It’s okay to feel
If you’re here now then be here
Get rid of all the noise
You promised it’d be just us
You promised a lot
I’m afraid to ask
How many you broke
Along the way
Is it better to know
Or not know
I’ve never been good
At sticking my head
In the sand
So many questions I don’t want to ask