Hey, You
                                    absolutely gorgeous thing
Don't you know
                                    every guy is gonna want you?
                    
                    That's what I think is gonna happen.

You're always right
                                      I don't know everything about you.
But sometimes I think that
                                      You might not know a lot about me
        
                     Either.

Hey, You
                                     absolutely troubled thing
Everything is gonna be just fine
                                                                Right?

Hey, You
                                      Please answer me
You're gonna be okay. It's not the end.
                                                                        Right?

Hey, You... You're not gonna forget me?
                                       Even after all of the small things we did?
I know that they don't mean much to you, but
                                       it did to me

Sorry you didn't see it the same way. But, it was still nice.

Hey... You know that I'll always be there for You

                        for You
                                                                   for You

                                             For You

It’s chaos, sweetness
Some kind of confusion that
Unravels one’s mind

I was fifteen years old.
You were sixteen.
You called me every night.
Sometimes we´d have our rough patches
Arguing and fighting,
Hanging up,

Crying and making up the very next day,
As soon we woke up.
Even through all that,
I always asked for a bedtime story,

And my favortie one,
No matter how many times we argued,
No matter how may times we hang up,
Ignore each other for the night,
Or even say harsh words,


¨I Love You¨ will always be my favortie bedtime story you´ve ever told me.

“You’re eating, again?”
The question stings like a honeybee’s kiss
I smile dryly as I nibble at my plate
You have moved on now
But I don't hear you
“You’re eating, again?”
These words intricately constructs heavy vines
encircling the delicate hand that once held my fork
I smile harder as three words prickles my body
Fabricating a paralyzing smog in my skull
The food becomes unpalatable and my mouth parches
“You’re eating, again?”
I rise and then I watch
"You’re eating, again?”
get flushed in a porcelain bowl
And I feel the familiar swell behind my eyes
And I weep
I weep because I ate again

We write of hate
We write of love
And other things
We know something of

At different angles
Add our lines
Take a spin
With what we find

Fact or fiction
Lies or truth
Being poets
It's what we do

We write of needs
We try and fill
Tug at hearts
Strengthen wills

From natures plight
To the call of man
We hold it all
Inside our pen

As the sage speaks
The pen moves
We say it all
It's what poets do

We write of days
Given away
A solace with
Something to say

Glimmer of hope
Much needed laugh
Rhyme for the reason
For feeling sad

A little off beat
Yet still in tune
Filling a need
It's what poets do