Don't worry, I have nothing to say.
I'm throwing up blood anyway.

I'm hungry, lost, broke.  Whatever, happy.

I don't have time to care that you look down.
I don't have time for my excuses.
It's okay that neither of us understands.

I am so loved and so lonely,
so lonely and so loved. Both.

I'm not running anymore.  Not dying of thirst anymore.

I write to be known. I am known: me, by Jesus, we've been traveling.
Call me crazy,
okay.

Don't worry, I have nothing to say. I'm listening.

Do you miss me like I miss you?  
Do I miss you like you miss me?

You don't let people know who you really are (1)
You don't let people know who you really
You don't let people know who you
You don't let people know who (2)
You don't let people know (3)
You don't let people (4)
You don't let
You don't
You.
You is the answer

As a song brings tears to our eyes
As a wren sings its sad lullabies
As the moon fades in the lonesome night
My soul waits for You, my Knight.

Fighting my way in this battle within
Yet together, there's no doubt that we will win
But where are You now? Without You, I'll falter
My soul waits for You may it be forever.

Two heads are better than one, they say
And who am I to not obey?
I'll be patient and do everything I must
To wait for You and give all my trust.

Tepid times, as the grass,
Covered in little, tiny
Dew drops, sways in
The hot wind of
The orange summer sky
I run my red tinted fingers
On your sticky warm face
In the almost dead
Vegetation
I close my eyes
Feeling the heat coat me
As your hand
Slips from mine
For you were just a
*Mirage

when we finally land it looks nothing like the pictures
the clocks lag with your momentum and the air is set to 'thicker'
if we ever do float we'll find it's harder than envisioned
while we were watching dust and birds honing in on our ambitions
don't forget when you don't feel it
don't regret when you felt the pull

My bed stays warm
Sunday mornings
but when I hold a door
for an elderly woman
and her walker
it is for the smile.

Half asleep on my walk to the bus stop,
The Texada clear-cut smiles like the gap-tooth of the Georgia Strait
and the 3 pops of melatonin ingested 11 hours ago still have me waning on the down-low like a somewhat solid ghost in a Labrador windstorm.

I send you paragraphs
And all of my heartbreaks make me worried I've finally scared you off
But logic trusts itself to you and says, 'Cabo San Lucas, tantrastic,'
I'm no stoic. Otherwise this poem would still be sleeping in alphabet.

It's only the middle of the week but it feels like it's been a month,
At least
At little
The weather is Hyde again,
But as of right now I don't really mind
I just wish you had sunk into my chest last night as we slept together,
Finding our mind within its memory foam,
I dreamed of you and wondered
If Mexico really existed.