Your Wallet Will Be Stolen, You'll Get

Your Wallet Will Be Stolen, You'll Get Fat, Slip On The Bathroom Tiles Of A Foreign Hotel And Crack Your Hip.

To Love Life, To Love It Even When You Have No Stomach For It And Everything You've Held Dear Crumbles Like Burnt Paper In Your Hands, Your Throat Filled With The Silt Of It. When Grief Sits With You, Its Tropical Heat Thickening The Air, Heavy As Water More Fit For Gills Than Lungs; When Grief Weights You Like Your Own Flesh Only More Of It, An Obesity Of Grief, You Think, How Can A Body Withstand This? Then You Hold Life Like A Face Between Your Palms, A Plain Face, No Charming Smile, No Violet Eyes, And You Say, Yes, I Will Take You I Will Love You, Again.

I Wanted To Be A Writer Since I Was In High School, But I Never Thought It Was Possible.

I Think Many People Love Poetry Who Don't Know They Love It. People Are Sometimes Afraid Of Poetry, Or They've Been Introduced To Poetry That Doesn't Speak To Them.

If You’ve Managed To Do One Good Thing, The Ocean Doesn’t Care. But When Newton’s Apple Fell Toward The Earth, The Earth, Ever So Slightly, Fell Toward The Apple As Well.