words without warmth
are like the dry wind
that has lost its water
over the high cliffs of life

they cannot water a wilting soul
but  will only take away
the little life left
and leave it collapsed

"thank you"s are tired
over worked, over used
only an ASCII  string, no more
"i’m sorry"s stare in the face
of the expectant mind
expressionless

bring words back from the wastelands
give them the life they’ve lost
make them carry between their bits
the warm care of a human for another

i don’t know why i think of you
like a lot
but you’re one of my favorite things
that i catch myself thinking of
when i’m not paying attention in class

The color of sadness
Is the blue of the room
Where I laying calling out to you

The weight of sadness
Is all of the ocean
Gathered in the sound of “no”

It is a harsh velvet rope
In tropical heat
Strangling slowly
Every fleeting joy

I have measured it all
In every way
Just so I could
Hold it there and say
“I will love you again”