she's a song
you'll never hear
because you never listened.

I want to sit cross legged on your rib cage
And write poetry
whilst I listen to your heart beat
echo hope
sing life

I want to walk through your soul's halls
Barefoot
- A museum of things you keep dear -
And hope to find my heart pinned on one of the walls.

I want to lie on my back
On the sands of your mind
Where I have a clear view of your sunset
beautiful
dark
wild
And hope to see your ghost
right next to mine.

don't use me
as your broom
to sweep up your feelings for her
under rugs
cause every time we kiss
every time we touch
i can feel her coarse dust
rubbing through my skin

I envy the arrival of the moon... for when the moon makes its appearance, darkness forms and silence grows. When the moon makes its appearance, my mind is restless