hey youth. i left you a dm
on your phone. im waiting for you
because i think i finally get you
and i get it now.
i thought you were stupid
and you are, but stupid isn't bad
and being a bit silly keeps you sane -
more than any stupid wisdom will.
if wisdom chooses our will,
when will we ever live?
no, i will live with anger that burns
like the sparks from grinding tires
and the frightening friction of asphalt
that smells like horrid passion
that pauses for no one
because you were never gone,
not even i shut the door
and left you on read.
you were someone i could call up
anytime for a ride - something reckless -
and a beer that reeks of love.
so let me call you tomorrow
and we'll live our lives a moment too late
but never too early
because they always said it was too early,
meaning we could've gone
anytime.
YOU ARE READING
Rose, Prose, Poetry
PoetryExploring topics of love, limerence, grief, and everything in between, this is a collection of 100 poems written over a year. The works both reflect inner emotions and outward connections, attempting to capture the interconnected nature of the worl...
