(2014)
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
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
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
Under the weight of life I forget how to breathe and I feel suffocated I hesitantly make peace with the world
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did
I wish you had told me that on the good days kissing you would make me think that I knew what happiness was and on the bad days
It must be a wednesday or a friday or any day at all for I am painfully aware of the wo… that consumes me
There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze
I hope this is postmarked before my death certificate is dat… but you’ll know why if it is or if it isn’t If you get this in time
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
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
