FALLEN FOR POETRY

I wish I’d write more and I wish I would let people in

I wish my heart would stop pounding so hard 

I wish I wouldn’t give myself such a hard time

and I wish people weren’t so cruel

I wish I hadn’t hurt the people I did, walked all over their beautiful intentions and their blue eyed goodbyes

I wish my guitar didn’t remind me of you

and I wish I’d play it for myself, just a few chords, to drown out the noise

I wish my hair was longer and my body was taller

I wish airplanes were my home and the road was my best friend

I wish society wasn’t so sick

and my bones could rest knowing they’re keeping me standing

I wish I could live off of writing poems about my old tortured teenage soul 

and my growing, gleaming new one

I wish I could fall in love with something other than the sound of these keys

and the pain I cannot stop romanticizing 

But I’ve fallen for the fleeting mess of poetry

And it has taken all of me