On Nautical Adventures

Reach out your dozen-diamonds shimmering
shaking trembling hand and
grasp the place you call home.
My dad told me once, "You can't have everything;
you have to choose."
So I chose the epitome of my tomorrows
with the feeling of today,
the rambling of a small child,
and the sharp knife of a pen on my skin.
I draw on me.
The only reason I want a tattoo is so that
I can forever show the world
I'm goddamn lost and
this ink is my fragile anchor.
This skin is parchment thin and hard as steel,
so good luck putting needles through.
I want to be your parchment thin
fragile anchor.
Actually?
Fuck that.
I want to be anything
to bob with the tides but never sail further
what a miserable poor ship.
Sharper than the drop of the atomic bomb,
loud as a basilisk's fang,
these walls know more than
any of us know.
Keep my secrets.
Hide my woes.
Keep my dreams encrusted in yellow paint.
I remember the first time
my mom
read my poetry written in ink
on my walls.
She said, "Go to sleep...
you need it."
So I replied...
"Don't we all?"
Don't we all?
Don't we al need to be an anchor, a
mooring, a
black night sky stars build on the
blades of grass fireflies ignite,
the bed on which you lie with me.
Lie with me and take walks through
gardens and brimstone
heaven and hell and
when we are done I swear to God I'll
fuck you like a prayer.
I'll be your fucking safety line
anchor
canvas
mooring
chain lock hope key life love girl me
Why?
Locks break too soon.
Ropes fray too fast. Hopes.
I know I should get some sleep,
get over it but still.
You were my anchor and
now I'm drifting about.
The total deaths of a broken
mind spirit soul
is not just one but one million.
What is the value of a human
soul?
Extend your hand and close your eyes.
Get some sleep,
side by side.
If you're the sky, rest easy, I'll be your stars.
If you'll be the walls, sleep tight, I'll be the poems.
Extend your hand and never leave.
It's harder to
end
than it is to start.