(2014)
I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
Loving you was never sweet like the taste of vanilla the way I thought it was supposed to be It was more like
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
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
Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on
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 say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
I awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you
