PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Days pass like letters.

I'm still as quietly sunny as I was in high school,

as I was at four years,

as I was in the womb.

Days pass like seconds,

one after the other after the other.



I like my life.

Its crisp, its ambiguous,

its walking to the bank in 50 degree weather,

its writing home a thank you letter,

its making up my mind whether I'm going to try to be

in love tomorrow or not.

Its pretty simple in the sun.



I remember walking down the green canyon road when I was seventeen,

and it felt like this.

Somewhere there is a thesis,

and I'm telling you its in silence,

its in nothingness, its in the time between the moment someone tells you they are leaving and

they moment they walk away.

And the silence is smothering seconds minutes days,

but you just walk on with it, walk that beaten path

walk walk walk on.



What eyes will read about me coming home.

Well hello to them.

I feel a sad, sad softness for them.

I feel like I'm trying hard not to hate them, though.

Ugh, do you know I'm learning that our Universe isn't the only one out there?

And the ratio of the known universe to the unknown is

like that of a proton to everything that now exists.

And what eyes will read about me coming home?

What eyes, I demand, what eyes.

Well hello to them, diamonds.

I'm sure they pass over my blue.

I'm getting lost in 11 dimensions,

trying to figure out what love I can muster up for you.

Love love love, sun sun sun.

More and more days pass while I grow older.