another poem

Can I

be honest?

Or,               rather–may

I be honest?

Please?              I’ve got a lot to say.

I’ve got a lot to say              about the stars, snorkeling, babies, and

pumpkin seeds, but

can I be honest?

may I be honest?

Please?              I know I don’t need permission but,

sometimes you don’t like the truth when it’s prickly.

I want to tell you about the storm tonight, what

it’s doing to me, but

can I be honest?

may I be honest?

Please?

Do you know about the time I ate a purple plum and its

juice dripped off my chin?

Because I do, and I could tell you about it,                 but

can I be honest?

may I be honest?

Please?

I know that we can all agree that things aren’t

always                                  so sugary

that there is a sadness we all feel

and some days it seeps into our bodies, deeper than our bones

and I want to talk about it,                  because it exists, real as

Miley Cyrus, but

can I be honest?

may I be honest?

Please?

I’d bet you know how it feels to miss someone, but I want to hear

how you string the words together and see                 the way your face

looks as you say his name

and I don’t want to talk about your gluten intolerance anymore, but

can you be honest?

may you be honest?

Please?

What if I wanted to tell you something that most people would keep

secret

would that be too dramatic? would you want to unhear it, would it give a heaviness

to your shoulders?

I love your shoulders, but

can I be honest?

may I be honest?

Please?

The way you asked me, can we please           leave? I want to go home.

that’s what my heart beats for, what I want to sink

my teeth into

nothing that’s vanilla flavored or watered down

but, please?

may I be honest?

may I      please                      be honest?

Please?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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