you’re twenty-six
living in New York City
in an apartment by yourself
with indisposed thoughts
as company
you light a cigarette
on the emergency stairs
outside your bedroom window
and you think to yourself
“is she broken just as me?”
and so you take that one last drag
you’ve taken away seven minutes
off your life
and those seven minutes
could’ve been used to
call her back
but instead you light
one more cigarette
until tomorrow comes
and the day after that
and the day after that
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 8:36 AM UTC
what became of her
was a mystery
it seems that she lived in someone else's dreams
in a pretty long wedding gown
where her thoughts were nowhere
to be found
she said her vows
and closed the door
in front of me
who would have loved her more
but if your heart was talking to you
you’d realize it is me
you’d realize it is me.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
One hundred and one
missed calls
before
I gave in
to the eternal
silence in
my heart
that you'll never fill in
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
I
loved
you
and you
said
you
did too,
but
you
forgot
about me
and that's
when
I
realized
you never
did
love
me
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC
You
live in
a
sick fantasy
where
the only
people
are
you and me
but
the dreams
were
caught in
the
webs
we call
travesty
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
She
brings
the rain
And
I can’t hear
a word
she
says
In the silence
that
fills
my heart
She
brings
the rain
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 6:26 AM UTC