(2014)
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
I don’t remember any anesthesia after talking with you but I woke up stitched back
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
There seems to be a drought in my… but who knows if it is the cause or the result of the war raging within me
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
It must be a wednesday or a friday or any day at all for I am painfully aware of the wo… that consumes me
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
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
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
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 I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things