some days (by kris)
 
Some days there’s nothing more daunting than an empty page
Some days I could wrap you up in empty pages,
tell you the poem is on the inside,
this is in an inverted poem,
you have to hold it in your arms until it leaks under your skin.  
Some days I hold my breath waiting for a kiss that’s never coming,
some days I’m convinced nobody around me is living up to their beauty,
we’re all falling short, faces to the concrete,
mouths full of worms and dirt and dandelions,
and we’re all coming back smeared yellow and black
with grit in our teeth
and blood on our knees
but we keep going cuz even crawling is better than shriveling up with worms,
although some days I melt sticky until someone kicks me free.  
Some days I could soak in your glance,  
baptized by your laugh,
born again in your footstep,
always ahead of me never looking back,
but I’ll chase these memories like they’re oxygen
cuz some days, they are.  
Some days every lover leaves me feeling more lonely than the last
Some days it’s only loving that can save me from my past
We paint our bodies with our pain and dance till we collapse
Some days I could strip and spit in front of every person who makes a tranny joke
and still thinks I’d wanna be their friend,
and some days I’m their friend just cuz it’s funny
and some days I let ‘em call me honey
then laugh when they think I’m not hard for them.  
It’s not that shit’s not hard for them,
but all boxed into these boring shapes
looking the same sounding the same they have no idea how tiring they are.  
Some days I imagine I’m another emo white guy strumming guitar
singing songs from the generation before when they at least believed music was poetry, some days your smile is music
is poetry
is all that holds me
keeps me
pulling me from the concrete,
pulling the grass from between my teeth telling me it’s just growing pains,
it’s no good to be running
if you don’t have calluses and bruises and scrapes
to show you’re worth at the least sidewalk you’re running on.  
So some days we run on and on,
laces untied,
eyes open wide,
backs bare and fried,
just so we can laugh about it later,
why do we always do things so we can be the person who’s done them later,
when did we forget how to be who we are right now?
Some days I’d give anything to know who I am right now,
some days I realize there are as many ways of knowing as of being
and right now I’m looking to be for just awhile,
be with you for just awhile,
be your smile, hold your hand,
a poem wrapped in empty pages,
skinning our elbows on the sidewalk from tripping,
  skipping until our hearts beat a language we’d forgotten.
 
 
 
poetry
Monday, September 15, 2008