(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
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well
I get my silence in five minute doses before the plane overhead brings me back to earth
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
I don’t remember any anesthesia after talking with you but I woke up stitched back
There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
I feel empty unceasingly until you come along and fill my heart to bursting
