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

I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can

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


If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing

I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back

Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on

Autumn sneaks in preceding dormancy Leaves take on new beauty with nothing left in them but a fa… Individually insignificant

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

The hands of this watch haven’t moved since the last time you did and I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear the ticking

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