(2014)
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
Autumn sneaks in preceding dormancy Leaves take on new beauty with nothing left in them but a fa… Individually insignificant
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response
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
Under the weight of life I forget how to breathe and I feel suffocated I hesitantly make peace with the world
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
I would write a sweet poem and title it with your name if I loved you at all
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
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze
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 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
