abuse your power with
tokens of appreciation that would
climb into your bed
and hang atop the rungs
right beneath the top bunk because
it was too soon for you to grow up
did i take your childhood away from you
or did you force me to become an adult
i don’t know
the way your tongue was
sharp witted
when i witted that it hadn’t been
when naivety was still fashionable
when being gullible was not so
last season and i’d model foolishness
with grace and dignity
turn to the winter collection when
it’d no longer serve me

i cannot will it or
wit it or
whittle it out of broken tree bark
scratching over our initials that
meant forever
trees don’t live that long but
we knew we’d try
i cannot erase the blue pen ink
faded black on my walls
that testify I’m yours
im yours

some broken philosophy
unbroken tree skin for us to
claim as ours again
i cannot pick up the pen
i can pick up the pen but my
hand is unsteady
i do not want to mess things up
when i’m not yet ready
i’ll make the tree bleed when it’s time