Its sad to say that my only inspiration
is anxiety caused by seperation
which is basically admitting
that you are my only inspiration

She felt okay,
Thats what she had said.
She said she was  fine,
When really she was dead.
But then she felt every emotion when he was around,
Turning the frown she possessed upside down.
So when she told him "i love you",
To his face,
He couldn't help but resist because to him she was "ace".

I don't know if you ever are awake
late enough to hear it:
the world before it opens it eyes.
If you are able to catch the yawning
echoes of the crickets from
the windowsill where you listen.
There, it is serenity laying in wait.
The silence of nature is never
truly silent.
It hums with the burn
of the not yet risen sun,
shy behind her clouded vision.

I don't know if you ever are awake
late enough to taste it:
the world before it opens its mouth.
Before the morning showers.
That delicate smell, just before rain.
That scent of grass alive in the
shimmer of the morning dew,
alight with the purity of creation.

I don't know if you have
ever witnessed these things.
This beautiful magnificence
creeping in before the
alarm clocks.
I don't believe so,
or else there might be
understanding between us.

That sound of morning.
That smell of rain.
The taste and touch
and sight of a world
we don't know, in the
moment untampered by
the one that we do.

Burn it all.

To allow me sleep one more
morning with your hair
careless on my cheek
and the covers handily
in your possession
as I wrap my arm
around you,

burn it all.

The thoughts pile up
Pushing hard against my lips
Trying to find a way to make sense

I try and try to write about
The love that keeps my heart beating
And the love that tears it apart.

I cry and cry every night about
The hole in my chest that once was you
And the hole in my chest that will continue.

I pry and pry your mind
To see why I am not enough
And to see why and how our love went awry.

I die and die every time
I see pictures of her with you
And I see pictures of when it was just
Me and you.

I was empty and you filled me, and I thought it was good like flowers growing in the cracks, but I was wrong; you were a tree that took root in the middle of my sidewalk and broke the cement apart and left me crumbling