If you come as softly
As the wind within the trees
You may hear what I hear
See what sorrow sees.

If you come as lightly
As threading dew
I will take you gladly
Nor ask more of you.

You may sit beside me
Silent as a breath
Only those who stay dead
Shall remember death.

And if you come I will be silent
Nor speak harsh words to you.
I will not ask you why now.
Or how, or what you do.

We shall sit here, softly
Beneath two different years
And the rich between us
Shall drink our tears.

I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

i don't think that missing someone or something
is defined by the things
that remind you of them
but by the fact that you slowly --
-- but surely
forget those things about them
like their voice
and their laugh
and the way they sang
when they were in the shower
because they thought you never listened
i think it's the forgetting
not the remembering
that drives people crazy
to the point of calling and
hanging up
just to hear that someone --
-- you just came to mind
say "hello"
one last time.

Dear New York City,

It is eleven on a rainy saturday and we are all still half asleep. I think I've forget what noise is. It so quiet here, its like everyone has forgotten the sounds of living. And how loud they could be, and how loud they should be. I've heard silence is a sign of insanity. I miss you car horn melodies that reminded me how that sanity was overrated.

Dear New York City,
I hope you know that I fell in love with you in five days. With you, I was drunk off a future I forgot could exist. Did you know all they do here is talk about you. Sometimes I look at my buildings from different angles pretending its you. This is how my heart breaks.

Dear New York City,
I love the way Manhattan tastes on my lips. It sounds like being young and dumb, like falling in love, it doesn't sound like high school, or retirement or me.

Dear New York City,
I am filled to the brim with the young, the terrified and the restless. Filled with dreamers, stuck in a small town dreaming of a big city. They wear your emblem on their chest, dreams falling from their backs. I think you should give them a call. I think we all need to hear from you.

Dear New York City,
Next time, take me with you.

Sincerely,
Smalltown Ohio.