Here’s my poem for you, my today.

 

You are my sunlight squeezed shut eyelids in the morning.

My mellow, midday sadness like breathing in heaviness.

My shivering fingertips, quivering lips as what used to be my favorite,

falls white and blinding like loudness expressed in cold.

 

You are my warm days turned to exhaustion,

beating on me like anger and a sickness for home.

My emptiness, like a bottle poured contents out but still no room for more.

 

You are my mindless thoughts.

And my more mindful expression.

Emotion like waves,

and your coming and going, the tide.

 

You are my late drives home soaked in sadness and streetlight.

Blurred lines seeming yellow and screaming a different color.

You are my tired feet, getting home with swollen eyes and feverish hands.

 

You are my music too loud, background music, blaring, bleeding but my rhythm.

Most days my drumbeat was your hand on my back.

You are my sleeplessness, and the dreaming when it does come.

 

You are my vision blurring, static.

My memory,

my musty, forgotten, sweet smelling attic

filled with what remains of a photograph.

You are rain being good.

And darkness being comfort.

 

Here’s my poem for you, my yesterday.