(2014)
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
Loving you was never sweet like the taste of vanilla the way I thought it was supposed to be It was more like
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
I was like a rain cloud over a small garden and dammit if you weren’t that garden so full of flowers that I fell in love
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
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
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
It must be a wednesday or a friday or any day at all for I am painfully aware of the wo… that consumes me
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 awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
