I feel like alot of stuffs been happening, and I've let alot of stuff pass me that sould have happend.
but I don't think much of it's worth writing about, so anyway here's another poem.
it's a bunch of splimterd thought revloving around one thing. I hope you don't understand it.


when the traveler returns
I remember when she left
as yesterday
this empy year
reeks of
second hand music
second hand frindship
second hand conviction
second hand love

sitting five peiws behind me
whith a turn of my head
you have broken my silence
not the silence between us
that remains even now unchanged
you have broken my sece-fire
my agrement not to think
of my silent half loves
so menny
and so far from being hole
of my unwriten poems
of my unscreamed somgs
of my unpainted masterpaice
of the batles I have not fought

we are seperate
and I am seperat form the seperated
but I wach you,
you beatiful thing
running, breathing
smiling, singing
sitting, swinging
praying, healing
I've seen you cry
pure real tears
they showed me what you are
they made me love you
you remind me
of everything I wish I was.