Same Page

 

We’re not on the same page

Because you’re a thick classic

With gold rimmed pages and

metaphors so beautiful

that it causes weeping.

We’re not on the same page

Because I’m an old battered paper

of no punctuation

and half baked ideas

that make people’s brows furrow

and their eyes squint.

We’re not on the same page.

Because you’re a revolution

And I’m wave a of confusion.

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Little House

You left my heart

Like an empty house

Empty, dark, cold.

And while I’m still hurting,

I think maybe,

Just maybe,

This little house could be quite cute,

With some curtains hung up over the broken windows

And some table and chairs to match the thick rug

This little house could very well soon,

Be something someone could live in

Maybe even two people

This little house,

Will not just hold my heart

But another’s too.

Once I do some dusting.