Day 20 of 30. I decided to do some eavesdropping in my local cafe. Found poetry of sorts out of the conversations I heard. The heard conversations is a poem in itself.
This is what I heard:
I have short feet
I kept answering
my mind is somewhere else
You have short term memory
he rang twenty four times in a day
he sent me a massive long line of letters
it doesn't bother us but it bothers you
why are you squishing my feet
I love you so much
a thousand lives over just like that
he needs to stop
I don't scare easily
be careful you might break your head
This is what I wrote from it:
My memories talk to me
traffic non-stop. They are mints
on a pillow. My mind is cold coffee,
it's a bundle of sealed letters. Did I say
thank you to you, a thousand times
a thousand times, I love you?
Or is it me? Have I been making things up?
Have I stored different versions of you in my heart?