after leaving you,
i never,
after saying goodbye,
the fuck you’d care,
i drove into a tree
and crushed my brain
and lost my voice
and lost my memory…
obviously,
cause, all i did
was get on a train
to portland.
after loving you,
i’m so ashamed,
i can’t even say your name,
what’s it…?
evidently, that’s not quite true,
cause poems i write to:
i.love.you, dream you.
after burning my harmonium,
i wonder why the birds
flew by, went south,
flew by to melodies i cannot know.
and, you’re just high,
and you’re the song they hate, they do not bring,
and, i fly by with melodies you cannot hear,
in harmonies i cannot sing.
poetryandpoet 
Just…wow