did you think this poem is about you?
did you think that this whisper floated along radio waves just to kiss your ear?
did you think after all this time your name still sits on my shelf
waiting to drink in the rain?
did you think my lips still wrap around your name?
did you think every Spring I traveled to your door in my dreams?
that I made the motions how the sun lays to bed
or how the grey wolf sighs at night?
do your fingers still search for the light
when you want to keep a secret in the place even God doesn’t know?
even now that dust has settled
and a new sun rises on an empty bed
the place between coming and going is dead
did you think this poem is about you?
it is.
and has always been
//did you think this poem was about you? by: alec prado//
//Photo Courtesy of: Karel Chladek on Instagram//
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Once I lit a paper on fire in my living room
I told them I had never seen a fire before
I didn’t know what would happen
I found it like that
The sun hit the vase of water just right
And through no fault of my own a fire started
Now there’s a scorch mark in the middle of the room
A scent that won’t go away
A sense that will always stay
Floorboards sequentially fracturing over and over
Folding over themselves and rising in the air
Drawing everything towards it
First the dust lifted up
Then the lamps tilted over
Until the darkness became its own scorch
One time I lit a paper on fire
A poem filled with secrets and regrets
An open wound in my chest
A black heart still smouldering
I burned it because I was afraid
Afraid to keep it
Afraid to lose it
Afraid I’d want to become blackened
//One Time I Started a Fire By: Alec Prado//
Photo Courtesy of: Charlie on Instagram
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