You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.

When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.

So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.

Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.

even in the stillness of death she looked so beautiful

i want to write my pain out,
but it won't drip through my pen
it's been stuck there for five years,
a rotting clot inside my head.

The memory
of you leaves me
yearning,
dreaming,
for your warmth
in this December cold.