Each breath is a thousand goodbyesEach breath is a thousand goodbyesEach breath is a thousand goodbyes2 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A thousand goodbyes for anyone who's ever mattered
Every classmate, every neighbor,
every childhood sweetheart, every pet
The grandmother who always had a hug for me
The mother who never let me down
every teacher who told me i was good enough,
and that some day i would be great.
here's to you.
Each breath is one thousand goodbyes
for every word we've spoken together,
I tried to count them all
and i lost, but if
one thousand breaths is what it takes
to tell you what you mean to me
i'll do it
i'll draw each one as slowly as I can
lingering the flavour of air on my tongue
whatever it tastes like
it's the best
To This Day Project - A Poem by Shane KoyczanWhen I was a kid,To This Day Project - A Poem by Shane Koyczan3 months ago in Personal More Like This
I used to think that pork chops and karate chops
were the same thing.
I thought they were both pork chops;
and because my grandmother thought it was cute
and because they were my favourite
she let me keep doing it.
not really a big deal.
before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees,
I fell out of a tree.
and bruised the right side of my body.
I didn't want to tell my grandmother about it
because I was scared I'd get in trouble for playing somewhere that I shouldn't have been.
a few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise
and I got sent to the principal's office.
from there I was sent to another small room with a really nice lady who asked me all kinds of questions
about my life at home.
I saw no reason to lie.
as far as I was concerned
life was pretty good.
I told her "whenever I'm sad
my grandmother gives me karate chops"
this led to a full scale investigation
and I was removed from the house for three days--
until they finally decided to
these promises no one keepsthese promises no one keepsthese promises no one keeps3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and dreams she dreams as she sleeps
of deep lines, and deep heartache
finger on the tip of a point, ready
threads of many colours leading so many places
ending at the start
wrapping around a wrist so frail
I'm sorry I couldn't lie
when you wanna cry,
you really should lie
say there's somethin' in your eye
there's always something in my eye.