(2014)
It must be a wednesday or a friday or any day at all for I am painfully aware of the wo… that consumes me
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
Forever seems like so long until I think of all the times spent waiting
Everyday brings a new death in three words give or take Some days I drown
There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
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
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes
I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well
I see no joyous rebirth in spring for autumn will bring another death I see no joyous rebirth
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
I wrote this while thinking of you so I guess you could say this poem is eight years in the making
I see words screaming for attention etched in the lines of your face Let me look closer
