(2014)
My heart was paper now folded six times over to make it harder to tear I only hope that
I’ve always been at the very least a little caught up on everything about you This idea of you
I’ve kept my eyes closed most of these past eighteen years because I find it just as dark
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
You asked what I knew about you and I thought up a list of twenty things
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
I would write a sweet poem and title it with your name if I loved you at all
If I was once the tallest mountain your love was the wind that eroded me to nothing
Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could
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
I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back
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
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
