Young Writers Society

if i were to get a tattoo it
would be made up of every word
you have etched into my soul
to make sure i live to see tomorrow;
prayers that sound like they are
the farthest thing from church (i
think you call them blessings)
running down my arm and up my leg so
i could always see them but hide phrases
on days i do not want the world
seeing my heart and

simple turns from poets would mix
with metaphors from those who
do not normally speak in them and
each one says something from
you know i am serious when there is
no layered meaning and i know it
is hard for you to understand unless
the feeling is packaged in something else
with quotes from two years ago
still playing in my mind until they
integrate into this is what love should be
and i learn loneliness isn't always
a natural state.

and if i could tattoo something in
return it would say—

—April 29, 2015

death is never peace even if the passing
itself was nothing more than a whisper it is
only ever screaming and crying and rage at
time because there is no calm in
losing somebody who had been there
for even a short time and there is
no honour in making sure the body
is completely deteriorated now we may
let him go; it is never the right time to
say goodbye and you can have a childhood
ended too soon or a lover taken or
for the first time somebody who has been there
your whole life is taken and there is no
dignity in any of them even if you stop
treatment because there is no hope left and
you try to tell yourself there is peace in
this feeling and this world but over a
decade can pass and you still catch every
reference to him that wormed your way into
your subconscious and you try
to shun who he was while at the same
time remembering every thing the moment
somebody calls it to the surface

there is no peace in endings because new beginnings
simply bring new trials to light only now
they are not there to help you.
—April 30, 2015

fin

you can never leave well enough alone always
adding more even after the last t (should be) crossed
and i (should be) dotted but you are adding more
as finishing touches, because there are no
true endings anywhere on this earth and
sometimes you want to think there are sharp
breaks where everything changed but even
the ones that cut through you the cleanest
are nothing more than fuzzy blocks of time that
span across periods where you know where they start
and you know where they end but the middle feels
like it's not even in there, not yet, because
nothing is truly finished.