how does one
just pick a flower
from a full bloom

how does one like
just one thing
of this divine spring

love every flower
say the bird and the bee
this is nature. no monogamy

you
you're not a poet
and no matter how hard you try, you'll never be one
but what you are, is even better
you're a poem

everytime i look in your eyes
i see new lines, freshly written

when i touch your face
echo's of ancient words are heared deep inside my soul

i haven't made love to you yet, and i can't even imagine
the poetry i will feel that day

so even when you will never be a poet
you'll be the only poem i ever want to read

There wasn't a lot
I could do for you
With the distance and everything else
I couldn't give you much
Only some small piece of myself
And the image of my body bare
For you to keep
I would like to think the fantasy I spun
Helped you in some way
I know it probably didn't
And it was foolish nonetheless to play a game of falsity
The reality of us sunk in too deeply
Too quickly
And all at once
Our future,
There was none
I forget that in reference
I didn't have the time to care
So I stopped all at once
I'm sorry for that
I hope I broke your heart enough
For you to be able to write a song about it
Maybe melody and lyrics
With some semblance of us in them
I hope wherever you are
You are getting closer to happy
I hope you still think of me.
I know you do.

Listen
Hear how the pitch varies yet stays constant
Silence permanently halted by that
Which processes it.
We are forced to mould pain into peace,
Sleep forced into the lack of,
There's no cure.
There's no remedy for calamity.
No homemade soup
or store-bought pills.
We who are diagnosed are dissidents against the police of
silence.
Listen now.
Hear the perfect consistency,
A straight line
in one ear out the other,
Like a power line from one pole
To the next.
It hurts.
A string of pain connecting each ear drum,
making sure that well notice if it misses a beat.
Sadly for us,
It never will.

I miss your wrists;
and the way they unhinge
at the cliff edge of my shoulders.
I miss standing breath to breath,
close enough to feel your heart
making music against my chest.

We got it made, in the shade
we get paid for the lives we take
another raid, we're not afraid
sling the blade for the government's sake

having fun, in the sun
there goes one more out of luck
another bomb, another gun
a running child is a sitting duck

we got it made, in the shade
we get praised for the lives we take
another slain, we're not insane
sling the blade for the governments sake