I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark

If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains

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

I know that you were there in my dreams and in my arms Every dream we

To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas

I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back

If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing

I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer

You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things

Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin