The pen must be
 mightier than the sword
 For there is nothing that
 will spill your guts faster
 than a bit of ink that says


Forever seems like so long until I think of all the times spent waiting

I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark

So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything

You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things

There is something to be said of a true friend One who will pull the knife from your back One who will stitch the wounds

I know that you were there in my dreams and in my arms Every dream we

I was like a rain cloud over a small garden and dammit if you weren’t that garden so full of flowers that I fell in love

If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains