"If Only We Could"
after coming home by jake kilroy.
i wish i could write poetry on my knuckles
and drum them on your window,
on rainy, blasphemous nights,
when you're up reading late.
that would be my new year.
that would be my resolution.
you would be the heart i wish existed,
the lungs that weren't beyond repair,
the legs that can always run home
and the brain filled with hope.
why couldn't we just live here?
why couldn't we just give in?
what makes us go west?
to the sun, to the ocean,
to the fairy tale stories,
told and retold to generations
that come after the war's end.
this shall be one long, dazzling display
of affection, of realism, of comfort.
this will be the graffiti in words,
painted with the colors of adventure.
break more pens in furious rants,
bust more cracks for a sinful grin,
lay waste to all the times i begged for forgiveness.
here.
this is what we have.
why not make the best of it?
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3 comments:
I'd close the blinds if you struck for you've already done me wrong.
P.S. I LIKE.
Run that sentence by me again.
P.S. Thanks!
It was kind of like continuing with your window theme...as if you were waiting outside to strike. And I don't trust you.
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