(2014)
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
Forever seems like so long until I think of all the times spent waiting
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
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
I hope this is postmarked before my death certificate is dat… but you’ll know why if it is or if it isn’t If you get this in time
If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
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
