(2014)
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
Loving you was never sweet like the taste of vanilla the way I thought it was supposed to be It was more like
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
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 know that you were there in my dreams and in my arms Every dream we
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
