Dug up some stuff from forever ago. Some of it's poems, some of it's stanzas or bits of prose that just struck me as decent and I want to post.
I write I love you in the clouds
For the people I left behind
I write I love you in the stars
For the people I watch over still
I write I love you on the wind
For the people lost and alone
I write I love you in the Earth
For all the people who remember
Every day that love seems to die
When I leave
I don't necessarily want
To be remembered
I want people to be loved
People weave their lives out of stories, and all of those stories are connected to other people somehow, which are all connected to still more people, until the world becomes a tapestry of stories and people's lives.
What would it be like
To be truly invisible
To move in and out of crowds
Leaving nothing but footprints
But seeing and hearing
The secrets of everyone around me
Would anyone eventually be able to see me
Through my perpetual anyonymity
Or would my darting form
Constantly fly by without being noticed?
How long would the invisibility last
Before someone caught on to my game?
Would I be allowed to stay
Lingering in the shadows
Or would I be welcomed back
Into the land of the visible?
Paper
My almighty keeper
Of every secret
Kingdom of my thoughts
Listening without complaint
And never telling
Anyone it's precious contents
Book of my words
Keeper of my mind
1 comment:
Remember what I said about my dad writing Neitzche on the wall when he was a teenager? I'm writing the first two on the wall with a Sharpie.
And funny you should mention that the whole world is a tapestry woven of stories. I'm in the process of filling up a notebook with a tapestry-story. It's kinda weird, but I like it.
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