2.01.2010

slam poetry meets love poetry meets me and....this met me like a ton of feathers.

selected excerpts from Shane Koyczan's Apology:

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I keep saying that I'm sorry.
I know it's strange, strange in a "George W. Bush hasn't been assassinated yet" kind of way,...
And my heart is a protest that I let rally against my ribs because I want to build my bones into cribs
and lay my reluctance to rest; test what it would be like to live frenetically,
to hold you unapologetically, to plant a giving tree on my front lawn so that when you're gone
it can give you back to me. And I'm sorry that when you sleep next to me you're forced
to listen to the symphony of the unplugged nostril and I'm sorry that for one time for some reason
I called you ma'am, that's fucked up. Fucked up in an
"I just bought a pair of Speedos so I could go swimming with you"
kind of way. And crazier than that is the fact that I will play at being brave
because doubt is about as useful as a fire escape when you are trying to dodge a tidal wave.
When you've got no time to save anyone but yourself you better believe
you're worth it and you are worth the time it takes to take the time to get to know you.
We've managed to muddle through the awkward stages of "I like you" and "do you like me"
and when we both said yes life became a multiple choice test; not knowing anything,
we became each others best guess. And holding your hand is less like exploration and more like discovery.
I don't have to study you to be sure you were the choice I made before
I knew what the other choices were.

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