(2014)
Under the weight of life I forget how to breathe and I feel suffocated I hesitantly make peace with the world
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
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
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
Everyday brings a new death in three words give or take Some days I drown
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 poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
I feel empty unceasingly until you come along and fill my heart to bursting
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
