(2014)
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
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
You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did
I thought I could drink you away but I had to stop being so drunk on you first
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
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 see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
There is something to be said of a true friend One who will pull the knife from your back One who will stitch the wounds
I don’t remember any anesthesia after talking with you but I woke up stitched back
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
