(2014)
Loving you was never sweet like the taste of vanilla the way I thought it was supposed to be It was more like
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
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
Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze
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
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
