Yesterday, I caught death going through my trash, looking for cans. I asked him if there wasn't somewhere else he needed to be. He said he was in between jobs at the moment, and thought he'd do a little recycling in the meantime. I told him to move on...
when a poet falls in love with you you can never die they will notice the way you rub your palms and look down when someone is angry at you and the way you smirk as you pull away from a kiss
they will notice how you can't sleep without your body touching someone else's how you never crease any pages of books and how you close your eyes when you dance in your kitchen with your record player on
they will find all of the words that they see you as and turn them into something beautiful
people say you die twice once when you stop breathing and when someone says your name for the last time
if you fall in love with a poet they will never stop mentioning your name you will be alive for eternity
i never knew before what such a thing felt like but you have made me feel it and feel it all around sometimes i am on cloud nine but then sadness takes over sometimes i wish to tell you everything but then i can't say a word sometimes i want to give up on this love but then i fail and fail again
i never knew before how much you would seep into my life but now i have seen it and i certainly haven't seen it all you're the lump in my throat holding back all the words i never said you're the long walk i take every night brooding over the sweetness and sorrow you're everything that makes me vulnerable and powerful at the same time