If you have ever wanted to write
A pyramid
Stacks of laborious words
Harshly sloping to
An exploding neon butterfly sky
That taste like salt water taffy
If you have ever wanted to write like that
If you have ever tried to write
A pair of lips
Puckered in a rosy matte
The artisans blend of natural flush
And artificial lollipop blush
That kiss a reader with the pristine mix
Of tulip petals and teeny tiny roller skates
If you have ever wanted to write like that
If you have ever wanted to write a feeling
Than you have better felt
Because it’s too hard to write about happy
When what you know as happy
Is somewhere simmering
On your mother’s oven’s back burner
Between a light lust and a furtive calm
And don’t you try to write mad
Till you’ve been slapped
By the morphed contortion of a face
That once was some variation of kind
Because you thought you knew
What the word love meant
Because you took so many quizzes
And watched so many movies
And you listened to so much music
And make no attempts to write sad
Till you are a living diagnosis
Of a hollow body syndrome
When the doctors checked
And found no heart, no soul
And the weight of all that oxygen
In your empty shell
Drags you down till you feel tired
Every single day
Don’t lie and say you are
When you are not
Because only someone broken
Can write a forest
Filled with leaves but no trees
To work a magic
That suspends a bowling ball in air
And knocks a thousand pins down
In the same universal moment
So don’t try and write love
When you haven’t made the mistake
Of giving up your life
For someone else’s
And realizing that genuine fault
And have no regret
No matter how bruised
Your gag reflex is these days
Because hey, you have it all up
For a clouded image
Of what had the slightest chance
Of being real
So I don’t wish you luck in writing
And I don’t advise it as a life
Because to be so broken that
You don’t feel anything anymore
Except when your pen is on paper
Is the only way to write.
