It’s The Way Every poem is about you. Even the ones about other people, they’re for your eyes only. Everyone else who reads them is just a stranger looking through the window…
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poems
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i won’t touch the radio almost every saturday we picked a highway and drove with the top down till our cheeks bloomed with freckles from the sun the wind…
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On the first date Our hands come together And the lines drawn in our palms of our own futures Touch A possibility of becoming a web together forms It brings…
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Beat i let the drums run their tiny fists all over my body the bass seizes control of my heart beat and i let the music ravage me chords…
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Happy Birthday I lick the frosting off of my finger, which I swiped off of your bunny sloped nose. Your giggle, a tinkling bubble, tastes like sugar in the air.…
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every accusation you made leaks onto my pillow case from my ears where they have been burrowing and buzzing all day filling my mind with sores and regrets …