let me count the things you are not

Posted in Poetry on December 13th, 2020 by D'jaevle

you are not a rose.
not pricked
in thorns
or cannibalized
for love

you are not a summer day.
if your eyes hold
a sunset
you keep it
well hidden

you are not a gift.
promise,
secret,
or encapsulated
by any singular
intent

you
do not fit neatly
into metaphor
(or my poet’s heart)

you are simply
(perfectly)
unique.

bruised knuckles and broken toys (revised)

Posted in Poetry on December 9th, 2020 by D'jaevle

we trade making a scene
for quiet today
is the cessation of dreams
the price we must pay?

hold onto these words, less we forget
that a lifetime of almosts
is one of regret

the longer I live
the more that I find
the things I miss most
are the dreams left behind

not callous, not simple, not shallow or clothed
but bared and complex, deep and exposed

not careful, not silent, not restrained or delayed
but reckless and furied, freed and remade

not counting the rings in the circles I’ve walked
but remembering the falls and the chances I’ve stalked

you can promise the peace of a path well traveled and tested
and I’ll show you my scars where the best have been bested

now tell me you’re listening
and I’ll tell you this:
a life that’s worth living
is too easily missed