where you are now is where
I cannot be even if I tried
would I be lying
or crying in this space where all
I want is to touch break open your heart
and mend it in turn
but can I do that with my hands
and will words be sufficient
to make you understand
the soft shards of glass unraveled
strewn secured split scattered
in the thoughts I cannot paint and
in these words you cannot see
because they aren’t blurry enough to make a
sorry sweet memory to please
the god of intentions?
tell me if an answer to this question
would be tough enough to smooth like sand
paper cranes and airplane wishes to
four ones that make a loved one
know they are–
and that is what you are to me.

[it’s been a long time… I found this on one of my notes on my desktop, a poem I wrote sometime last semester, I think. I like it because it brings me back quite distinctly, though I’m not sure it will fully make sense to anyone else.]


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