remember the music
festival we went
t(w)o
summers ago?
we sat but couldn't
listen, distracted
by the other's silence.
you handed me
a AA battery
and I held it
(I didn't know if there was any
life left in it.)
you did not know
I had just come from
breaking apart and starting to heal
(in the way that you only can in
the arms of a stranger
beneath
a red striped tent)
from
some advice I was lent
from
a guitar wearing a girl
(and the skirt I was wearing was sprinkled
with
the stuff that leaks out
when you find
you're not supposed to be fixed,
just loved.
you realize
you're not supposed to fix,
just love.)
you had handed me
a AA battery,
I don't know if there's any more
life left in
it
sits in a box up high
next to dust animals and
some ribbon.
I read this....a LOT!
ReplyDeleteThis specific time, I read and re-read this part:
(and the skirt I was wearing was sprinkled
with
the stuff that leaks out
when you find
you're not supposed to be fixed,
just loved.
you realize
you're not supposed to fix,
just love.)
It...is just so purely true and I don't think that anyone could put into words what you can so fluidly!
Please, I want to see more of your poetry!