(2014)
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
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’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
Under the weight of life I forget how to breathe and I feel suffocated I hesitantly make peace with the world
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
I thought I could drink you away but I had to stop being so drunk on you first
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 poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
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 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
