(2014)
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
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 have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
Autumn sneaks in preceding dormancy Leaves take on new beauty with nothing left in them but a fa… Individually insignificant
I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
Life is an uphill struggle Nothing comes easy and only hard work pays off I don’t like hard work was my 5 word protest
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
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
I awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well