(2014)
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
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
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 know that you were there in my dreams and in my arms Every dream we
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
I don’t remember any anesthesia after talking with you but I woke up stitched back
I get my silence in five minute doses before the plane overhead brings me back to earth
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
I awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you
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
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well
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
I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
