a cataract of emotion overflowing.
there’s no end in sight.
no wet floor signs.
no life jackets.

i’ve always had a problem pouring too much.
spilling my guts on the floor,
making a mess of it all,
waiting to see how far i could possibly -
fall.

i don’t mean to
i didn’t mean to

my cup is empty and still it never ends.
the water on the floor is turning to ice.
it’s getting colder and colder -
i’m running further and further.

i don’t mean to
i didn’t mean to

i’ll keep trying to run.

-

Smoke rises like clouds
Ripe leaves, dark as the night sky
Ashes fall like rain

things go missing,
lost somewhere between
then and now.
and the rest is history,
and all that you can do is try
to outrun the rising tide.
oh, to be carried away,
to be buried in your own garden.
if you cling to the things
you can't change,
that's the first mistake.
but the rest is already swallowed,
swept by the rising tide.
things go missing,
lost somewhere between
you and i,
reshaping history,
rewriting time
all the time.

Ofetn,
I spel wordz,
Awefully wong.

i wake up in a sweat, but i am so cold
i check the clock, its only been an hour
i haven’t slept in such a long time

far, or near
i can always feel it

am i the moth
or am i the flame

-

I wish
to be simple
not special
the latter
would only
make me artificial -

what best fits me
is the plain and natural
nothing in excess
I need no other call

What I write
might not be read
I won't be put off
nor be hurt

for to write
is to lift me
beyond myself
and to set me free

Darling,
Do you remember the picnic we had by the sea?
You told me,
To wait there for you.
Darling,
Where are you?
I'm still waiting,
In the same spot you told me to.