Sometimes I forget that unsaid sentences do not mean unfelt emotions.
Catalog
Tyler Knott Gregson
Tyler Knott Gregson is a poet, author and professional photographer based in Helena, Montana. Gregson has accrued fame as a poet on social media platforms such as Tumblr, Instagram and Twitter since 2009. He writes and posts a "Daily Haiku on Love," and a raw poem from his "Typewriter Series" every day currently. 2Background Gregson studied sociology and criminology at the University of Montana. He worked as a freelance writer for various companies, and began blogging on his own in 2009. He says he has written poetry since being in middle school. 2Typewriter Series The "Typewriter Series" was born in 2012 when Gregson found an old typewriter in a Helena antique store and typed out a poem spontaneously. He said, "I just did it all at once and it was like stream of consciousness, I didn't plan it or think it through—I just let it go." The poet now challenges himself to post one of these every single day. Gregson's main incentive for writing is to express that poetry is not dead and is something to be valued. Writing about various themes like love, hope, sadness, and wanderlust, has enabled his readers to relate their own experiences to his word
I notice it all, all of the details of you, and I love each one.
What you are to me, I could not hope to explain, or ever repay.
Will you tolerate the strangeness inside of me, the quirks of my soul?
I’ll never ask you to be anything other than exactly you.
Maybe I’ll be lost no matter how many times I am found again.
Of all the presents, there’s one I want to unwrap: You, and always you.
The morning coffee reminds me of your waking. I stir to find you.
Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim.
Stop hiding from it and let the joy you wait for catch up with you now.
I will be the silhouette in the window light if you'll be the indentation in the mattress.
We begin where we end, it has always been this way.
I am the kind of broken that only comes when so many pieces are shattered off the whole that it forgets it ever painted a picture at all.
I am the kind of empty that comes only when it’s known that I will never be filled again. The kind of empty that, well, there is no kind of empty that even begins to feel how I feel...I am empty. I am empty. I am empty.
I am the kind of alone that comes when the realization comes that everyone else will step forward and you will not step at all. That they will march happily into the rest of their lives and I am unable to imagine the rest of this breath. The kind of alone that comes as nothing even begins to make…
I am the kind of tired that sleep just cannot fix.
My three words belong to you as they always have, so reach out your shaking hands and I will rest them gently upon them. Three words: I Love You. And 5, if I had 2 more to spare: I Will Always Love You.
You are home to me, you have always been and I will never stop sleeping on your porch until the day comes that you open the door and with tears fresh in your eyes kiss me and I taste the saltwater and the longing and the breath you’ve been holding for far too long.
Know this: I would rather feel those words in your hands, shaking though they may be and be ready to catch them before they fall, if fall they do, than hold them safely inside mine for the rest of my days and never see your face light when you look down and breath in the realization that you’re…