West Virginia,
I have to write something for you for your birthday, even though I don’t want to
I’ve written you so many love songs
Those were a beating inside my chest that had to get out
Those were songs that had to be sung,
Those were thoughts that had to be spoken out loud
Those were words I had to let cross my tongue
I sang you a lullaby, and
I would sing myself a lullaby
West Virginia, I don’t want to sing to you anymore.
But you are bleeding and you are broken West Virginia, and I can’t
Ignore anyone hurting, especially on their birthday
So dear West Virginia
I will not tell you to get better, because I know you are trying.
My mother told me that “everyone tries to do the best they can in the situation they’re in,”
and I believe her, because I have to.
So I know that you’re trying,
But your songs are no longer poems I have to let out
They are a dull ache in my chest
They are screaming in the back of my head
They are blood slowly dripping,
They are all the reasons why left unsaid
West Virginia,
I have to write something for you for your birthday, even though I don’t want to
So I will tell you about the love songs, about how your mountains would swallow me home, and you would sing me to sleep
Those songs were a beating inside my chest that had to get out, those were poems that had to be sung, those were reasons that had to be spoken out loud, words I had to let cross my tongue
I’ve written you so many love songs
Dear West Virginia,
I will not tell you to get better, because I know you are trying
When I sang you a lullaby
I sang myself a lullaby
I have to write something for you for your birthday, even though I don’t want to
I’ve written you so many love songs
Those were a beating inside my chest that had to get out
Those were songs that had to be sung,
Those were thoughts that had to be spoken out loud
Those were words I had to let cross my tongue
I sang you a lullaby, and
I would sing myself a lullaby
West Virginia, I don’t want to sing to you anymore.
But you are bleeding and you are broken West Virginia, and I can’t
Ignore anyone hurting, especially on their birthday
So dear West Virginia
I will not tell you to get better, because I know you are trying.
My mother told me that “everyone tries to do the best they can in the situation they’re in,”
and I believe her, because I have to.
So I know that you’re trying,
But your songs are no longer poems I have to let out
They are a dull ache in my chest
They are screaming in the back of my head
They are blood slowly dripping,
They are all the reasons why left unsaid
West Virginia,
I have to write something for you for your birthday, even though I don’t want to
So I will tell you about the love songs, about how your mountains would swallow me home, and you would sing me to sleep
Those songs were a beating inside my chest that had to get out, those were poems that had to be sung, those were reasons that had to be spoken out loud, words I had to let cross my tongue
I’ve written you so many love songs
Dear West Virginia,
I will not tell you to get better, because I know you are trying
When I sang you a lullaby
I sang myself a lullaby
Hollers and Hollow Bones Poetry
Hope
Hope is a black-winged bird
Monsters
For Emmaleigh
Bullets
For Pulse
Dear West Virginia
I have to write something for you for your birthday, even though I don't want to