(2014)
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from
I awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
If nature were so flattered by poems written with itself in mind as people are we would be moving mountains
Under the weight of life I forget how to breathe and I feel suffocated I hesitantly make peace with the world
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
There is a girl and I love her and I have loved her since the beg… Or so it seems to me as I only became conscious
Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin
Just when I get back on my feet you pass on by and I lose my footing Again
If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
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
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life
