Wish For It

When I'm not writing; I'm out there living.

So this 

is an offering, a rebellion, a testatment

to strange silences

that batter the brain and bleed in the belly, 

and summon more noise than voices.

This is the feeling of never quite reaching, but always stretching

for that lingering insatiable nagging desire

that will never entirely be fulfilled 

because love and art and dreams

are eternal wells 

at the bottom 

of my naive 

little heart.