m a t t h e w   s a v o c a

 

tomorrow

i can't say

it varies




















tomorrow

 

breasts have been compared to
mountains before
but not your breasts and
not these mountains
at least,
not by me and
that's what
i'll try to say
when you ask me what's wrong
tomorrow.

next




















i can't say

 

i guess
what i've been trying to say
quietly
for so long
is
if they drained the ocean
they wouldn't see its floor
just a mess of fish
piled on top of one
another
jumping and
flapping and
not breathing
and
i can't say
i'd know how
it feels
but
i can't say
i wouldn't.

next




















it varies

 

the real
bitch
of it
is
i love you
a little bit more
on the days that
you hate me.

next

MATTHEW SAVOCA isn't your local mailman and he's never worked with box tops. he's neither a student nor a teacher. in fact, he barely exists. he would like you to write him a letter and promptly hide it inside a book at your favorite library. the end.