"how foolish"

i'm a young solider with holes in his heavy heart and head. these holes are all opened from within. in my backpack i carry letters i've never mailed to my teachers, my friends, my brother, and my parents. the things i carry are reminders of the things i've lost. i'm not a good student. i'm not a good friend. i'm not a good brother. i'm not a good son. oh, i know i'm good. just not good at some things. some important things.

and all i do is murmur stories of color. poems i pile up until i can climb high enough to step over the moon. but my poetry can't compose answers. or love. or truth.

how foolish i am to think it ever will.

and how even more foolish i am to continue to try.

dope song: rilo kiley's bulletproof