There are many Jones soda bottles
on our bookshelf
My love is a collector.
People in the sun
A Ferris Wheel
A note "I (heart) you"
Two dogs with their noses pressed to each other's
Each one has a feeling.
We used these bottles at our wedding
Unique little vases for flowers at every table.
It was definitely one of my favorite parts of that day
(Short of making my lifelong promise to her)
They used to be just nice to look at
for me
But each and every one of them
now hold a very dear place in my heart
As her collection became ours
We grew closer.
Just so,
as our collection grows
so does our love.
Though I'd say
if it were a race,
Our love would win.

Are you mad at me?
Babe
Baby
Don't, please
Goodnight
Goodbye
I was
I'll call you tonight
I'm in front of your door
I'm sorry
It happens
It was sad seeing it get colder
K.
Ok sweetheart, sleep well
Ok
Okay
Okay fine
We'll talk soon
What about you?
Where have you been
Where did you go?
Sorry
Sorry.
Sorry
Sorry, I really am
Sorry
You still up?

Fields turn to concrete turns to buildings turn to cities turn to dust. Everything in this world is finite. **** or be killed. We are malignant cells multiplying and dividing, incurable, unstoppable. Where we go, death and destruction follow. They're right behind us, pushing to get ahead.

All we touch turns to stone, a grave marker for the earth. We are burying ourselves with it. Ashes and bones are the thrones of the new world. We don't learn from our mistakes, we build upon them.

There is a thirst that cannot be quenched, a hunger that cannot be satisfied. We devour everything in sight, but remain empty. If this is what it means to be human, I'd rather be the mud stuck on the bottom of a shoe, the trash blowing away with the wind, the roadkill abandoned on the side of a highway.

Such a conundrum,
severe desperation for sleep,
but I'm a word zealot.
As the moon increases altitude,
the pen flows,
freely.
Two a.m. when,
I'm ****** and sufficiently lubricated,
near delusional,
from three days lack of sleep.
I ***** ink and emotion on a page,
it solidifies,
I'm ******* King Midas!
That's when the magic happens... Sometimes.
I wake up on the floor in a,
putrid puddle.
No evidence of effort,
save an ink stained rug and,
cigarette butts.
Most times it's just ****.

Gather up the bags under your eyes,
Turn off the lights in your heart,
Lock up your soul,
Keep walking,
Maybe take a taxi away from your thoughts.

I'm content on knowing who I am, and who im not. Unopened packages and a bouquet of forget-me-nots, laying on the burned dresser,
Doors that swing open from the inside out,
Shaggy carpet.

I never had time to frame the posters,
So I'll tear them down tonight,
The uneven weight of hammer in the palm of a shakey old mans hand,
Cause he'll work until he dies,
I don't know why you love me.

Egg shells and intimate objects,
Buried beneath this castle of a home,
Drapery made of fish scales & the darkness in your eyes, that'll never fade away.

You're the only person who's said my name,
With passion behind it,
I dance to Toms Diner by DNA,
Cause it drives me crazy like Legos in martini's,
Broken by Seether reminds me of your dead,
Mom,
Beat up skater shoes & chain link fences,

Inhale exhale,
For what?
You won't be counting the heart beats in my back,
As you slide my shirt off.

I'll drink wine in a different floral mug each night of the week to trick my kidneys into believing it is romantic rather than cataclysmic and I'll walk the graveyards like I don't have the dates and names memorized already and I'll call the moon a 'she' and watch her disappear and I'll never stop trying to impersonate the squeaks of your swings when my voice feels unsteady.

I was proposed to once,
in an unfinished treehouse,
in his backyard.
The silence that fell between us,
only reminded me that:
we were just a thought.
An idea that tasted sweet
on the tip of my tongue;
but grew sour when I laughed.
And you kicked the leaves in defeat,
knowing that this was a passing phase.
And that saying "yes" wouldn't change
the way a clock ticks.
*The very clock that would be our end.

all light exists in the past.
there is no reason to reflect.