You’re on my skin tonight, the winds shift from gear to gear– I let my fears go tonight. I miss you rings true, you don’t have your number, but I still wait. Maybe you’ll call me some day. Maybe this is all a dream and I’m really the one that’s dead instead. They say poetry shouldn’t be so direct, it should feel like a magician’s act. For this first part, you’re on the moon. I can never get you down. You’re here almost every night, I can’t stop you from shining. I wish I could’ve held you that night. I wish I could’ve called you. I wish I could’ve heard your voice. I wish I could’ve held your hands. I wish I could’ve told you that you weren’t alone and you’ll never be alone. I wish I could’ve kissed your forehead goodnight. I wish I could’ve told you that I loved you. I wish I could’ve stopped the world for you even if it meant you’d only be there for another second. The sweetest things happen so quickly, I wish I could’ve been there to hold you tight, tell you that everything was going to be alright. I wish I could’ve told you that having no hair is in. It’s okay, I’ll go bald with you. I wish I could’ve told you that I’d be waiting for you. I wish I could’ve told you about the books I’ll write for you. I wish I could’ve read poetry to you. A poem a day keeps the heart filled with art. You don’t need to cry anymore. You don’t need to hurt anymore. The sad songs can have happy endings. Romeo and Juliet doesn’t need to die, I’ll rewrite Shakespeare. Classical music doesn’t have to have a sad appeal, I’ll play the happiest songs for you. You’re on my mind tonight, my heart shifts from fear to fear– if I am just an illusion or a dream and you are the dreamer, then dream me into a smile. Keep it warm, keep it alive. Keep me in your back pocket, the best poems are surprises. Keep me inside of your palms, I’ll deliver your words into sweet nothings– tell you that I love you just to love you. Tell you that I miss you just to miss you. Tell you that I need you just to need you. Tell you that you’re important. Tell you that you’re special. Tell you that you’re beautiful. Tell you that you’re sweet. Tell you that you’re cute. Tell you that the story never ends, it just needs a quick pause, the greatest pieces ever written has one or two. Tell you that this? Death? It’s just another adventure and if it’s somehow beautiful– won’t you send postcards? I saw that quote in a movie and it was used kinda weird, I find this prose piece fitting. This is my apology to you, I haven’t been myself as of lately and my intentions are pure. I want my words to reach you, maybe break the fourth wall of my story kind of poetry. If the world is a sick simulation and I’m always destined to be here, at this very moment, stuck at 5:09 am, a little high, a little heartbroken, a pack of cigarettes in, a little damaged, a little lost, a little trapped, a little hurt, a little stressed, a little torn, a little bit without you– then I’ll pick every option that’ll return me to that fateful day when I was asked for a poem. Straight from my thoughts and into your veins. You’re on my skin tonight and I just want you to stay even if you’ll be gone by sunrise.
— On my skin