(2014)
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
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’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
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 awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
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
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
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
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
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 see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
