(2014)
Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on
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
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
Autumn sneaks in preceding dormancy Leaves take on new beauty with nothing left in them but a fa… Individually insignificant
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
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 see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
Everyday brings a new death in three words give or take Some days I drown
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
I would write a sweet poem and title it with your name if I loved you at all
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
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
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
