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ohshouldn’t i be ableto write poemsabout nature and howthe sky is the skybut also not the skyfor it is all allwaters anywayswatching how it mistsa face in a wayi am able the unnatural truth isall my poemsare other poemsabout whati do no tknow how to writeon yetand what i should’ve doneinstead of all thisdamned writing … Continue reading
forgive thiseternal summer what would would it beif it were always july perhaps one whereit was still juneand we believedwe could go onuntil the next monthforever
suppose we were tostart again where would you go firstwho would you talk towhat would you do for menothing would changeexcept for the smallnow known factthat i would not try to change youfor meanymore
i carry itlike the nightcarries the stars there is no whythere is only the factthat it must look lookthere is light everywhereif you choose to be it
perhaps it was meantto be simple perhaps you werenot supposed to askperhaps perhaps all that was everrequired of youwas to noticehow uncomplicatedit could be
i will not existeventually but then someonewill talk again aboutthe quiet joy of beingand celebrating the terriblytiny things and i will ariseonce moreas a voice in your headchanting exist exist existit is all there is to doand will
what is thisin my little heart how did the sunfind itself inside maybe all that was neededwas an opening up of myselfto what could beif i can bemore than someclosed offmaybe gogo godo ituntil gone
ahall these wordsand stillit is all the same i writefor youto youabout youand, untili can think ofwords that last longerthan all this,without you
all those that runoffall these things rundownall the slowly runover where can i runbacktowhen everyone is the samekind of escapeefrom a life filled withall the runaways
don’t you yet knowthose that have builtentire futureson a whisper,those who will tell you not what cannot be donebut what will be for those whodon’t know youyet
