No event becomes monumental until it’s too late to change.

Their eyes tell stories that no words could do justice.

Just pick up any child on the side of the road
and you can read a novel in one glance.

So enthralled are you by the tales of loss and hopelessness
that you're surprised to see smiles on their faces,
leaving you to wonder
                           how people with so little
                                    can have so much joy.

I don't believe in soul mates.

Because
   you
      were
         mine,

but
now
you're
                gone.

Either you don't know me,
or I'm no longer myself.

Remnants of pain
remembered hide
behind their eyes.
Most people see
walls and boxes,
but I see oceans
and meadows
and rolling hills.