Lennon James

Why does it hurt that I will not feel enough to write something meaningful? 

I can hear the birds sing outside my door 

every morning 

as the sun eats at the side of my face 

All that’s left is the memory of you, 

my neck stained green and 

my hair grown too long 

So I place honey in my coffee 

like you showed me years ago 

When our love shined so 

and left us burnt 

Crossing that county line never used to be this hard 

The trees will speak to the wind 

in a foreign language i never learned 

one of loss I can’t comprehend 

Wishing, like the birds outside my door 

every morning 

that i could fly to a place where nobody knows my name 

Still it lingers 

my hand still shaking 

carrying your memory 

Why does it hurt that I do not feel without you? 

Fall 2024