(2014)
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
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
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
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
I feel empty unceasingly until you come along and fill my heart to bursting
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
There is a girl and I love her and I have loved her since the beg… Or so it seems to me as I only became conscious
If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
