The blood in the bottle usurped
the blood in my veins
I love you I burped
but it was in vain

You're drunk again
why do you cause this pain
it's fuel for my pen
and I cannot abstain

I guess I am weak
with no self control
with a future so bleak
and a shriveled dried soul

It fills the page
can't you see,
it fills your rage
and that's fine with me

Today you left for good
so I bought a new notebook
and a bottle of wormwood
laid out in a small nook

Watch as these pages like feathers
fly off in the wind
lets get back together
so I can do this again

I wrote a poem
of a poem
about a poem

I wrote you a poem
inspired by a poem
of another poem

you'll never read it

It's catching fire
the ashes are lost

I spent an hour
writing you a letter

where I wrote you a poem

you'll never speak of it

it's hidden in a drawer
sealed

catching fire

you'll never see it

To
you

From
Me

i walk across the asphalt,
a path i walk for centuries.

i catch someone's eye,
but they turn away.

when did i become an apparition?
a poltergeist, sitting on the wind.

"take me where i can go," i tell it.
"no one will know a thing."

i stop when i realize
the rustle of leaves,
are only speaking to the clouds.

I'm tired of people
I'm tired of hearing

I'm tired of feeling
I'm tired of seeing

I'm tired of turning
Everything upside down

I'm tired of life
And tired of feeling down