thin blue whispers at your bedpost

I’ll write whispers of poetry

In the margins of empty pages

Words framing lines stacking together like towers

My poetry is collapsible

Meaning

Your words can bring me to piece

Shrapnel rhymes rip off corners of pages

Marginal whispers flitter in the wind like scattered ashy secrets

Words like

“Let it”

Words like

“Go anywhere”

My notebooks never fill

Severed attachment only a few pages in

Always moving to the next thing in case the winds blow me back a page

Thin blue lines sandwiched between G and O propel me forward

Onto the next thing

“Anywhere”

Maybe even not here

Because here could mean anything but I know what I want

To be both visible yet unseen

To be heard yet barely a sound

How do you take up space without taking up space?

Am I oxygen?

There yet you are consciously unaware

Imagine I was gone

Could you breathe?

Use filled-in thin blue lines

Ink pouring through your veins

Yet

Imagine my words ceased to fire

Would you listen harder next time

Whistle at the aurora borealis and beg for them to gobble you whole

Empty your soul as if it was nothing

Just so you could begin again

A more patient and innocent child

Awaiting another bedtime story to fill your pages full

My story

Whispers in the margins of the bed frame

Bringing you pieces of slumber in the shape of ashy secrets

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Check out some cool writing prompts for April below: