I watch Shane Koyczan over and over,
I think baby, come and cry on my shoulder
And I’ll cry on yours,
Because your words kick open doors.
Your rhythm is dynamic and catching
You got my body moving and matching
the music of your thoughts,
The rise and fall of your emotions—
What you’re selling is almost too beautiful to be bought.
Your synapses start firing,
And it messes with my inner wiring,
You make me laugh.
And yeah, this is me,
This is Ms. Who’s-the-next-poet-of-the-week-gonna-be?
Who’s gonna be my patron saint of kick-ass,
The inspirational spirit of my unholy mass,
During the blink of an eye that is my day?
Because it’s true, I don’t always have follow-through.
Because not everything in everyday matters to me like words do,
And your words move.
Yes, we’ve never met,
But what you haven’t realized yet
is that love is not a pie,
That love is words and when it comes to words I can’t lie.
That I have synapses too, and they tell me over and over
I know you.
I know you.
We have imagined each other complexly for years now
No, I don’t know how,
But it’s real.
I can feel what you feel, even if it hasn’t happened to me,
All this empathy
Pouring out of me like rain
So that I can’t refrain from hitting that replay button one more time.
You can say it’s obsessive,
You can say whatever you want,
But I’m not possessive or repressive
I don’t need to own anything
Because everything I need is free
So be free. Love yourself and in that way
you’ll love me,
We are both made of the universe.
And please write more verse
Because your rhyme makes killing time look like an act of mercy,
Because eternity is a misery
And all that weight keeps me way too busy.
I watch Shane Koyczan over and over
The greatest overweight lover
Who reminds me that the dents in my cover
Are both all of me and none of me.
And I’m thinking baby,
why don’t you come and sit next to me?