poems i write at 2 a.m. and decide to post

five

i speak to the dead often.

they can't respond,

but i can imagine what they would have said.

that is,

if they were no longer dead.

i can't resurrect them,

though sometimes i wish i could.

maybe i could bury my fears in their place.

while they walk free.

my thoughts could go down with them.

hell, if i had a chance,

i'd put down my soul

for one last dance.