box of notes

Late night without sleep

open a box of notes

find words that were hushed

long long time ago.

I could place them here

but why bother, you’re no longer here

busy floating on shiny clouds.

Unfolding a larger note

discovering it is an entire poem

written on a bitter cold December morn

with changes in every line

and I remember why.

Time and time again my old heart

has felt warmth and pain

been scribbled down on a blank page

and been tossed into a box to

become yesterdays.

Perhaps you’ve been around long enough

to read between the lines

or to feel me pouring out emotions

from tequila missing the worm

with my mind destroyed.

I believe in angels and demons

though life imposed both on me

and without fail at wrong times.

I’ll place this in a box of notes

and not remember it until some day

my memory reminds my heart

I wrote of life, my own part.