and
all of a sudden i felt
really tired.
like the world had drained me
for everything
i had

you were the lightening
and i was the tree,
and your words were the fire that burned


t  h  e     b  e  s  t    p  a  r  t  s    o  f
                   me

depression is being colorblind
and constantly told how colorful the world is

a drop of ink may make a million think.

the choice was once your choosing
before losing
became my loss,
i was there in
your forgetting
until i was
forgot

i
spend
too
many
hours
in
my
own
head,
wondering
whether
i
spend
­nearly
as
many
in
yours

do you remember the night the moon dropped from the sky?
and we ran through the rorest to find where it lies,
i was tripping on tree roots and slipping on snow,
you were holding my hand saying not to let go.
when we found it at last, there were twigs in our hair,
a rose on our cheeks and our breath in our throats,
as its silver light danced throught the threads of our coats,
we knew that our eyes had not seen such a view,
you were looking at the moon,
and i was looking at you...