it's the shadow that indicates depth
it's the silence between the chords
it's the rest between the long days
it's the quiet that separates words

it is space allowing for growth
it's the emptiness that can be filled
it's the void that creates the world
it must be vacant before we can build

it is sad times that bring on the good
it's the sour that makes sense of sweet
it is cold that makes me crave warmth
it is hunger that makes food a treat

it's when i'm gone that i love my home
it's the down that makes the up high
it was god that made lucifer
it is death that makes life alive

if they say a one-word poem,
i'll write your name...

it always starts this way
the broken butterfly wing
and fly though that it may
it's circling to the left

my stomach not in knots
if anything i feel sane
but underneath my thoughts
i'm circling to the left

the wolf will never go
its clothing never shed
the sheep will never know
while circling to the left

the fragile i have snapped
alone they break so easy
with long tongue they are lapped
but circling to the left

and to the left they move
following their tales
rough but sound so smooth
if circling to the left

the end they'll never know
they won't make it that far
they reap what i did sow
when circling to the left

the circle's magic feat
the end is overtaken
the whole is made complete
by circling to the left

The road begins at my door.
A quick right, then left, just one
and on for seven miles. Seven.
It's seven miles till I get there and the sun,
the sun's still shining bright. So bright.
The kind of bright that hurts. It hurts
my head. Makes it ache. And as I reach
your place, that dull ache reminds me.
Reminds me
you aren't home.

I sit behind the wheel and watch.
I watch the sun drop. It drops.
It drops like you did, expected, but
too soon, too quick. So quick,
my aching head spins.
My aching, spinning head.
For a minute, a quick minute,
I forget. I forget that
you aren't home.

It's like it was back then, at least for
just a minute. My spinning gets me
spinning, thinking I might see, I
might see your smile,
that smile that tells me, it
tells me that I'm not alone.
But I am alone. Alone. Alone
because you're gone. But I forget,
I forget that you are gone,
for a minute I forget that
you aren't home.

I remember. My head drops to
the wheel when I remember.
I remember with an ache. The ache.
The hollow in my chest. The tears
try to escape, but I don't let them.
I look at your door. Your door is swimming.
Your door is swimming in my tears.
The tears that I won't let fall
from my eyes. My eyes.
My eyes ache for you. For your smile.
Your beautiful smile. But you,
you aren't home.

I turn myself around. I turn around
real quick. So quick. So quick that I
forget. I almost forget my way.
I nearly forget my way
back home. I forget the seven
miles. Seven. Those seven miles
have become, they've become eternity. Eternity. Eternity
because you, my love,
you aren't coming home.

you formed near the center
and grew faster than expected
one among the many
unassuming but perfected

and as the heat arose
all you did was grow
until you could no longer
be held down so low

and when you finally broke free
as you are so inclined
you rushed toward the surface
leaving your whole world behind

swimming through the maze
of liquid and cookware
you quickly found the surface
and disappear into the air

the lifetime of a bubble
born in a boiling ***
begins and ends so quickly
it never gets a thought