How to write

Do I need to feel heavy when I write?
Do I need a weight on my wrists
to feel alive?
This is wrong.
This is stressful.
I can write about many things
I do not feel.
I can write about love as though
it lives on my sleeve
and about death as though
it stains my fingers tips.
But neither love nor death
pulse through my veins.
How then, one asks,
can I KNOW,
if I do not FEEL it?
I am quite certain it
isn’t about feeling at all.
It’s about
remembering.

love poems (yuck)

I am most tired of love poems.
Yes, I am surely most certainly
absolutely
SICK
of love poems.
Their arrogance,
their smug confidence.
I will be most glad to never
hear another.
Most glad indeed.

Some words

If I may write some words for you,
if I may write one single syllable,
I am afraid I must not write at all.
I am afraid the room on this page,
(existing eternally),
is not a sufficient space for the words
I wish to write you.
I am afraid the childish metaphors
I had so cleverly crafted
are bound to wilt at your eyes’ first glance.
They are weary,
they are tired,
they are so much less than you deserve.
An absolute over-simplification
of your hands
of your sly smile
and your voice.
I will, though,
attempt to convey a glimpse of the
you I love.
My words are all I have to give.
They may not be dignified
or news-worthy,
but they will be sincere.
That much I can promise.