For Scott Hutchinson

I’m holding my breath.
I’m holding my drink close.
I’m holding my words even closer.
 
I think I’m suffering from
pre-traumatic stress disorder.
Could everyone possibly know
what’s wrong with me?
 
How do I tell them
I can’t stop laughing
at the thought of Heaven?
 
How do I tell them I want
to smash the Liberty Bell
and finish what destiny
failed to do?
 
How do I tell them
I questioned the truth
and answered it with nothing?
 
Do they know I’ve written
it all down beforehand?
Do they notice all of my
shelves of unread blood?
If only they would arrest
poets instead of ignoring them.
 
If I jumped from the window,
would they call me a Kamikaze?
Someone who hangs pictures
of people they love
on instruments of death?
Would they remember me as
nothing but a burning hole?
 
If only I could exhale.
If only I could put down the glass.
If only I could say something.

Philip Dykhouse is the author of the forthcoming chapbook Bury Me Here (Toho Publishing 2020). His work has appeared in Spiral Poetry, The Toho Journal, and The Moonstone Press. He was the featured reader for the The Dead Bards of Philadelphia at the 2018 Philadelphia Poetry Festival.