When I feel like
A nobody
a recluse
I write down a poem
Send silent sounds through
A looking glass and an ear or two
Listens to my heart beat and the ink flow through each capillary.
If each poem was a tattoo I’d be covered
And I could hide my skin from you.
And if each letter written that I’ve never sent
Or I did
And you just didn’t get them yet
They would detail my love.
And if you were music
You would be classically beautiful.
And you are mysterious to me.
And I don’t make sense without you.
You’re like a painting and I view you in line at a gallery
But one time you were close to me.
One time I knew a book like you.
I just couldn’t let myself read it.
Or I didn’t understand it.
Maybe you are just a radio song you hear once
And you wonder what its title meant
And how dissonant each tone was.

Maybe you are a tone that only some can hear
Or are lucky enough to.

Or maybe I’m just tone deaf.
Or maybe I’m just me.

And you are just you.

Not a shitty poem
On a train ride home.

I guess
You are a dream

That I have never waken up from.

And I can’t forget
No matter how hard I try.


Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.