Poem a Day for April - 8

These stairs are pulling on my legs, lying to me, telling me it’s okay to move forward. They’re saying that time isn’t willing to stop.

Don’t go.

I love everything about you. The curve of the back of your head. Your wink of a shoulder. The long story of your hands. Each motion echoing in my head when you’re not there. You brush your hair back behind your ear and I’m breathless. It was summer when we had lunch that time and it’s winter when I’m remembering exactly how you held your fork. The light that day turned your eyes into a colour I’d never seen.

So don’t go. Don’t leave my mind. Don’t let me get older. Don’t let it fade.

Do seat belts hate themselves for being necessary? Do whips look forward to being used? The slow winding down of my mind is scaring me. The weeks slip, fall, drop off into the void and I’m older.

But you. Stay. Please stay.



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I just came up with this

Hey there. I was musing on the new york boroughs shirt the other day and I thought about doing something like this as a parody.

Do you think it's

a)funny and topical or
b)played and unoriginal or
c)don't really get it





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