(2013)
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did
It must be a wednesday or a friday or any day at all for I am painfully aware of the wo… that consumes me
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
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
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
The hands of this watch haven’t moved since the last time you did and I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear the ticking
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
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