(2014)
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
I feel empty unceasingly until you come along and fill my heart to bursting
You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
I get my silence in five minute doses before the plane overhead brings me back to earth
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
I don’t remember any anesthesia after talking with you but I woke up stitched back
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
