I know the autumn is waiting,
pensive to embrace the loss of heat,
sweats moving on to other climes
where they’re understood

I hold til the skeleton of winter
can be seen and read
by my fingers on the sorry bones
that please me, alone

you remind me of the leaves
and the way they crunch underfoot
and the way they smell
and the color.

the pure, bright color that overwhelms
everything around the source.

nothing can compare.

A tear comes with each poem
    written on the earth

Even with a happy tone
     a tear comes with each poem

To finish your own life by hand,
May seem like the right thing to do.
But to free yourself from this land,
Is to imprison those that love you.

i will never look at you the same,

nothing about you makes me sane.

i lost so much to your name.

blankets of time snowing over

things you tried to tame.

i have written for years

but the one that cant hear

is in front of a mirror.

i lived years for the guilt,

manifesting all the things that I felt.

until i lived for goodbyes,

and a way to get lost.