You know,
The only thing I want for my birthday is you.
Just you.

The rest of the entire world can fall away.

Does it matter, my leaving
leaving loving, my darling?

Does it matter, my concealing
does my breathing seem revealing?

fear and fervor come with a gasp

Or, my facade turned soft to peeling?

The days run out wearing sneakers
Why'd I train them so much quicker
the final lap flees in a flicker.

In two days my life will change completely.
In two days, change will complete me.
Because the last two years
*didn't beat me.

"We haven't written anything yet," she exhaled.

The afternoon sun glistened on the panes, but there was a slight overcast on the far-end of the horizon. A thin streak of gray, like an ink spilled on a bowl of water.

For a moment she continued to converse with the ceiling, her eyes fixed against the whispers of the roof. She closed her fist but her thoughts kept running out of her grip. It was a state of sheer clarity. She can vividly see the minutes suspended in midair, their faces anxious, afraid, uncertain and with each flinch of the hand of the clock, she had captured the details of how each of them fell, one by one, on the pavement, their flesh asunder and perishing slowly.

"The table pressed against the wall looks defeated in the darkness of this dungeon," she cursed, more to herself than to the atmosphere as her feet traversed the labyrinth of their discarded clothes, crossed the room, drew the chair and scattered her verses.

I skipped town singing
but now my mouth is closed
all my best words stayed with you.

....

....

Someday's I think
that i will write
something
that is just not strange,
or mad or anything else
but the words will say so
so you can know me,
but alas,
seem's not to be so.