Lord, let me write, leave me autistic and typing until my windows bust into a thousand silver doves and I know the… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go. It was… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
If you've never been rocked back by the presence of purpose this poem is too soon for you. Return to your mediocrity,… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
I have heard that if you pull a bent breath through the second hole of a harmonica tuned to the key of Georgia while… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did. — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
There are moments of clarity daily. They open me up with a breath and keep me calm. They feed me the answers. And they… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
We are the fed up grass roots movement of goose flesh, hell bent on living this one life by the way we feel our… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
If we were created in God’s image, then when God was a child he smushed fire ants with his fingertips and avoided tough questions. — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
Everybody knows that smiling is for little girls, the gays and certain kinds of fish who are smiling by accident. — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
If hearts really did break, every time we fell from love, I’d be able to offer you confetti by now. But hearts don’t break… — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
“I'm gonna roll outta here one day, I just might not get to drive” — Buddy Wakefield Copy Share Image
