i started writing this poem with the theme
"all my lovers say they're not enough for me"
but i don't think love works that way. i don't think
i remember how to write poetry.
i've got nothing to say, but somehow
everything ends up writing itself.
and maybe that's fitting.
you don't pick who you fall for, you just
let it happen. i'm not sure though.
this is all based on how i imagine it happens
through other people's eyes; i don't think
i can remember a time i was in love.
it kind of makes me feel broken
in the same way it's been a lifetime since
i've written anything i feel good about.
i imagine a lifetime is enough time
for me to settle down, or learn how to
find my voice again. turns out,
i won't be able to tell until
it's too late for anything to change.
at least it isn't just me. i think
i'm a lot like my brother was when
he was my age. he died before he got there.
he never got married, maybe he never
fell in love. that's stupid to write about though;
it doesn't capture interest like "real" romance
does, but who knows? maybe
it's something poetic.
i shouldn't compare myself to ghosts,
but maybe i can learn a few things from them.