They ask me why I write about the future
like it has already happened...
Death tastes sweet.
Sugar coated lies...
There is an intersection
within my imagination...
Let me breathe
Let me breathe in these blades...
Melody speaks beyond the trees
Yearning for her spirit to sing...
unthinking
blank eyes...
It seemed unreal,
to stand at your gravestone...
This next poem was written 4 months later, sadly...
Take a deep breath...
Oh how I used to wait for you,
my sweet September...
When dusk comes, I take my walk
Meeting ghosts of Summers lost...
Human expressions deformed
Sun shine void of warmth...
Father.
You speak coherent words...