There's a direct link
between your time spent writing
and your love for cats.

it's three in the morning and
for the first time in so long,
the silence that rings in my ears doesn't remind me to think of you.
hours ago, i wondered when I would stop thinking-
when I would stop thinking of you.
yet now I feel strong.
now i feel like I could spend
three seconds, minutes, hours
being tortured by the silence and I'd be unphased.
I'd be unaware of you.

MOved to all poetry.com

I carry you
on my back and
in my arms
I hold you so tight.
But I grow weak.

I cling to you
in my thoughts.
And I find rest
in our fondest of memories.
Yet, even those fade.

Know this, my love,
when I grow old and my body fails me,
and when my mind ceases to remember us,
I will keep you
forever
in my heart.

In all the glory of the morning Sun,
you were my first.
When the dark encloses and I shut my eyes,
you will be my last.
Sometimes I get lost in the days
though.
And you become infinite
You are my piece of infinity

I am not period(.)
nor apostrophe(')
I am important
dashed immortality(......)
my ashes will remain and feed
someone(,)
if only a slug sloothing in comma days(,,,,,)
on the side of a freeway overgrown
with wildflowers and **** around
an exclamation mark(!!!!)
a mark of quotation(")
I decay and feed
the next generations
semicolon(;) seed;
If I have any say (period.)