Been dreaming about her
so much lately.
It's been three years.
What do I do?
Put on loud ass punk rock,
do chores.
Put on loud ass hip hop,
write poetry.
Handle it.
It's been 3 years.
Keep me in your walk-in refrigerator
or buried beneath your books,
but do you keep me,
busting out this blog when you need
a laugh in case of emergency?
it's involuntary for me.
it's been three fucking years.
and while it's a bit easier,
the dreams are still frequent.
so I keep them,
because I honestly don't want them to stop,
because then that is the real end
and poems will probably stop, too.