(2014)
#Death #Life #Seasons
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
Loving you was never sweet like the taste of vanilla the way I thought it was supposed to be It was more like
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did
I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
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