(2014)
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
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
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
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 see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
Everyday brings a new death in three words give or take Some days I drown
Loving you was never sweet like the taste of vanilla the way I thought it was supposed to be It was more like
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
There seems to be a drought in my… but who knows if it is the cause or the result of the war raging within me
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
I feel empty unceasingly until you come along and fill my heart to bursting
