The bullies were tough on me in high school Mikale
You're a tree, a
dove, an idea, a
name, a face. It belonged to
me. Made me feel
whole. I gathered
wisdom in my hands.
It felt surreal. My
mouth dry. My spirit
warm. I have to embrace
the future. This,
(Perhaps that is why I'm a poet.
I'm always writing to reach you.)
this means war.
You're a sigh. Ornamental.
Now I know what
love is. Letting go. Letting go.
Health reasons
dictate the distances
I travel now. Go places.
Going, going, gone.
I am the current, the climate, the energy
of the sun, the planets.
I am intricate. I am thought.
I am the morning.
I am spirit, and future.
You're a Saturday morning.
Remote-controlled flesh and blood.
In your arms I feel I can be anything.
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