I speak to the reflection
In the cab's smooth windows;
To the cautious -- what is life
Without uncertainty?
To the adventuresome --
But at what cost does this come?

If you still loved her you'd tell me about how her nose crinkled when she'd laugh like she could love the entire the world, and how she liked the yellow of sunflowers because they'd remind her of what it was to be healthy; how she was set to be nothing like her parents yet was still fragile enough to breakdown in a hospital bed; her spontaneous singing. What it was like to hold her in your sleep.
You'd tell me how you miss her reaching out for you; how sleeping alone made you worship the summers when you heard her laugh billowing in the wind like her skirts, dancing in the breeze:ablaze.
But time does that sometimes,
You don't love her anymore.

There's something
About listening
To the rain
Fall on the streets
Below
While looking
Out from the
Third story
Window
That I find
So peaceful.

As I hit my
Cigarette
The last few times
Before dying it out,
Like everything I've
Ever dreamt about,
I stop to wonder
Where my life
May go.
I could live to see the
Age of twenty-five,
But I guess time
Only knows.