(2014)
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
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
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 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
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
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
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
I know that you were there in my dreams and in my arms Every dream we
Autumn sneaks in preceding dormancy Leaves take on new beauty with nothing left in them but a fa… Individually insignificant
