the streets are quiet
the world is still
i finally notice
the birds chirping
on my windowsill

I always thought we were the perfect match.
But matches are meant
                                   to ignite
                                         and burn out.

You told me that
If she makes you want to write poetry
She's special

Does that make you special?
Because you make me want to write poetry

All
The
Time

I’ve been told I have walls,
That aren’t too easy to break,
They’ve been up for so long,
That my smile is entirely fake.
They’re made of unshed tears and a broken soul,
Of emotions that have taken their costly toll.
Tear them down if you feel you must,
But it takes too much to gain my trust
Strip me down to every pebble and stone,
Shatter me like a mirror and break me to the bone,
But don’t you see you’ve already lost,
For even my walls have a cost.