PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Will I remember to breathe when you’re here,

when you’re gone?

I forget,

I remember,

I exhale a hurricane and leave steam on your skin.

I learn loss when the doors are closed,

I set sail at all the wrong times.

I am too human,

I leave a mark wherever I go,

it is not always a good one.

We all want to leave postcards, silhouettes, golden

but mine always turn gray and crumble to dust.

I want to leave color,

flood these hours with more than minutes.

I want to leave fingerprints

so you know I was here.

But this might be a crime scene,

if it is I will take all the blame

I hope if it is the blood runs beautiful.

Will I remember to breathe when you’re here,

when you’re gone?

Maybe it doesn’t matter.