the blanket is kicked of the bed
as i shift
i believe that we
as people, move to our heartbeat
fast, slow, fast, then again slow
and this might crazy, but when you ask "how are you?"
honestly,
i don't know

in theory
time only moves forwards
but when im with you, time moves backwards
you bring me back to my childhood
which smells like fallen leaves and a poorman's candles
when there was no depression, no anxiety
just a chubby little kid who smiled too much, and loved the beach boys
what happened to that chubby little kid, who smiled too much, and loved the beach boys?
he's gone
because every seven years your molecules replace themselves
and in theory
you are a new person
in theory,

you know
i wear my brain on my sleeve
because i ***** my words through a pen
onto paper
i hide behind paper
because i don't want my words written in pencil
to be destroyed by people as an eraser

i want to become the greatest poet of all time
but for that would i have to know every syllabic rhyme
in iambic pentameter, triplets, or sonnets?
or would i just have to dream?
because reality comes putting the sheets back on the bed
and punching me in the head
and knocking me on the ground
because blood
is better then heartbreak
in theory,