Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin

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

I get my silence in five minute doses before the plane overhead brings me back to earth

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 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

Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on

Forever seems like so long until I think of all the times spent waiting

Everyday brings a new death in three words give or take Some days I drown

I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back