The Phantom Limb

Sometimes, I'm sitting, and I feel
Really empty and hollow, 
Like I'm missing something really important. 
Like there was a song I heard once
Or a poem I read
Or something I wrote that I lost. 
Like it'll never be enough because there will always be something 
That I missed
Or forgot about
And sometimes I think
It's just
You. 

The Caffienated Delirium

If love and logic could coexist, it'd be a very dull world.

The Honesty

So I told you the truth the only way I knew how: with my fingertips tracing syllables and symbols on your skin.

The View

Embraced by nature, I catch myself wondering why the Willow is weeping. Maybe it has seen so much sorrow that it doesn't need a reason anymore.

The Bittersweet Torture of Home Videos

What's there left to do when your memories drive you mad? Move forward.

The Battle

I want to know when feigned indifference became a competition: you pretend you can't hear my name in every love song played through your blown out speakers; I pretend I don't miss the staccato rhythm of your heartbeat playing me to sleep. It's a game no one can win.

The Cement Block Shoes

It's dragging me down, the way you hang on every word I say.