1.2 Per Day

1.2 posts per day
for 385 days–
this is what my world has become.
A frozen vault
of wasted words
pines for ears to hear
the caught up,
barred open,
restless language
that flows so freely
from these fingers made of wood.
They never change,
only weather in silence,
watching time
until no more sounds are made
or heard
and for 385 days,
I have spilled my blood
onto these virtual pages
and not once have you read them.
Obsession is obvious and mild
for the case of the “insanes”
I’ve got going on,
and forgetting is a feat
not worth attempting.
It hurts so much
to imagine you away
that I can’t even picture
the act of not remembering.
I’m confused again
and my mind says I’m crazy
for writing to you 1.2 times a day
and people probably
would say it too.
But that’s what love does–
it makes you mad,
outright bonkers,
definitely banana pants.
And I keep going
(I mean I’m writing right now,
aren’t I?)
no matter what
hoping that one day
you will run into my words,
that some search
will catch you skimming these poems,
and they will make you wonder
if they’re mine.
Maybe I should just send you a link…


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