Bring the rain leave the sun

how i believe

There's a hole in the ceiling

A hole to my brother's pants and

another I spot in my work shoes

Chest aches, and language now seized

From my fingertips but it runs wild

In my mind it trashes and shakes

coming down to my spine

my voice dosen't do Nothing

expect sit still in my throat,

Like a patient waiting for a cure

For the emptiness that echos and slowly

Eats at the body,

I'm in love with words with how they

Curve bend lean grow and shrink in size

In love with the way when I read from

A peace of paper, a poem a book or if I

Was to stop and read something on the

wall grafity or something,

How words can touch someone soul

And speak to us in many other different

Languages they to have a mouth of their

Own and they shine

light on objects or beings so hidden

Pulling with hands lifting us up

And giving us purpose

-purpose ?

Yet I don't believe them.

For some reason I don't believe when

Someone says your beautiful

Or they followed with an I love you

After I said it first

Maybe because I wonder do they mean

It the way I do?

Do they say it with sincerity

A longing

A sweet painful un perfect

Desire that keeps them

Anxious yet calm when we sit in the

silence or talk about life or whatever

The wind decides to blow our way

making convo arise easy

Do you mean it the way I do when I

Say that I really want to be in your heart

And open up the windows

I don't just

Want to be a visitor, a next door

neighbor but I'll settle for that too

When I say I want to be in your heart

I want to live there mark there

Breath there, trace my fingers on every

Surface and furniture

take up space in your mind

And heart that you remember me so

After I've moved out

when being in a heart

For a home and a home for a heart

Scares me,

But I want to live there

No promises but I'll fulfill every letter

Every word Every sentence to-

paragraph -action,

That I breathe out and write out to you

With passion and heavy desire

I write words, I'm in love with words

Yet I don't believe them it's funny in a

way but who am I to judge even the

Person who writes them lies.

-ashespoetry