You don’t have to be good.
_ Mary Oliver
Why have you broken your promises over the concrete?
hard yet fragile words that shattered without remedy.
Why are you explaining to lovers that you no longer hurt?
That smile- over cracked pictures.
Didn’t your father teach you to calculate with a pencil or a broken sword
The number of heartbreaks you could afford?
Why are you healing and still walking over shards of glass?
Are you writing now?
Are you writing songs now with a peeling thumb?
Pause and consider.
If you have to scribble poetry on the margins of your life to breathe.
If you have to close your eyes.
If you have to close your palms to live.
But you don’t have to be good.