untitled unedited poem - nov. 24, 2024
ie: i wrote it all down in my notes app frantically during my 6-song break in an active performance of hadestown
fellas, is it gay to have to close your eyes and revel in the sheer power and poetry in her voice alone, wishing you could be the breeze in her open window so, if just for a moment, you could see a glimpse of her; wishing you could be the steam on her mirror so, if just for a moment, you could hear a slight of her voice while she bathes; is wishing you were a part of her daily life so sinful? wishing you could fit into her, less like a hammered nail, more like a puzzle piece? wishing you could be the autumn leaf she finds in a pile and decides to take home, could that be so evil? what could be as villainous as loving a girl who couldn’t care less about wether you live or die? one can only hope she decides to feel the breeze for a moment, or writes her name in the steam. one can only hope she decides to press that leaf in an old book, to find decades later. one can only hope she thinks of you every once in a while.
