for the world is hollow and I have touched the sky

I knew that I had never made anyone very very happy
but I thought I might try for making you just
not sad

I could write I love you in a way that could not be empty
somehow
very very tiny
under those ways that you called yourself ugly
love
under those words where you call yourself ugly
love

but words are blunt tools
and I closed your books and never said
one

When I was 9
me and Matt dug a hole in our yard to see if we could break through to the other side
it took until august that it swallowed us
and we carved out clay with sand buckets and sticks
then Dad poured mulch in it while we were away swimming
later
I stood on it
dripping chlorine from my hair
glad

the world is hollow

and our twigs
and hearts
so very very small