Poetry

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Your thoughts of me I wonder if they are straight or curve off a bit. Like a dusty road filled with sharp takeaways. Your memories of me I wonder if they are alive or sleeping soundly away in the bottom portion of your lungs. Can you picture me now? Can you see wrapped within the warmth of the grass on a lazy summers day? I can't blame you if the picture becomes frozen. You're not really used to this part of me, and to be honest neither am I. What last expression do you remember? What lasting impact did I ever have across the skies in your room? I hope the air I lost in you years ago has faded. I pray that God has let your heart rest in ease knowing that I'm not me anymore. I kneel every night thinking of you and I hope you see the person I am now. I've kept myself from this grudge. I've tied myself up and thrown away my cook books; so now can you see me? Can you see past the outside? Can you picture who lives inside of me? Can you? Will you? I'll pick at this guitar till I bleed. I'll write until my hands fall off. I'll get these thoughts out today, and I'll send them to you in a package carefully arrange with my hands guiding the message and my heart wrapped tightly in every corner.

Take this note to heart. Take this melody to song. Learn of who I am and not of what was. Learn of me and I promise to send a picture later. But for now here is me, here is everything I always wanted to tell you but never had the right words.

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