COMMA,

Do you ever wonder if the gun shot meant to be gentle
or if I love you begged to remain words
Sometimes I see skeleton bones through breezes in the trees
and branches stripped bare of their dignity
Fall evenings waking up to find they have been replaced
I think we can all relate to the wind
None of us ever really know who’s hair we’re going to tangle
Or what season we’ll wake up being
I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a laugh that wasn’t beautiful
Or a word that didn’t echo intelligence
Vibrations of times we knew who we were
And songs on car rides that pumped now through our youthful veins
Of feelings that only made sense when our ribcages were pressed against jail bars
And heartbeats were our court dates
I know I’ve never liked waiting to tell someone that their soul doodles pictures I see in my night sky
I’ve never been one to cry
But tears falling into water beds full of moonlit nights
reflecting being alive and letting the world pull on your strings
Has always been beautiful
I’ll always be jealous of the wind and it’s constant identity crisis
Changing from strong to gentle strong strong
gentle
non existant
I hope you never feel non existent
That you know your heartbeat is a rhythm keeping the world off its feet
And I know that darkness is hard to decipher
But not every flower has to bloom in the light
and sometimes the best stories end in a comma,