I’d like to see you,

one last time,

not a single soul around,

and look you square in the eye

and see the way your face contorts

as you answer my question of, “Why?”

But the second words get in the way,

it’s difficult to decipher

your honesty from your lies,

but without a single soul around,

this one last time,

I could read your eyes.

This is spell-binding,
all the love that we’re finding.
You bend and fold promises,
and later,
I find them in my pockets.
Who would ever choose
to stop this?
I am us.


I need to start putting my writing up on here again because,
although tumblr is amazing, I collect way too many things on there
that aren't just my writing. This blog has been a diary of my life
and I think I might be losing that a bit.

As the colors fall from the tree,

I can feel just how they leave.

But beauty stains and creates

a permanent intangible memory,

you can still close your eyes and see.