Staring  out the widow,
waiting for your arrival,
other than you babe,
everything else is a trival.

Getting cold in this emptiness,
the clock constantly ticking,
words can't even come close to express,
oh how your absence is engulfing..

~A.d | 18 Feb 2015

And I had to walk away
I was just hoping at least he noticed I didn't run

I just puked another poem today
There was a queasiness so my brain felt the need
To up chuck all of its contents
All over you fine peoples feet

It was a colorful array of symbolism
That I hurled across the room
It must have been something I'd seen or read
That made me ***** this poem out for you

Don't worry I'll personally clean up the mess
Before anymore of this I let loose
But this close to a sick poet you should have guessed
That eventually my works would splatter on you

There are so many things
that we would throw away
if we were not afraid
that others might pick them up.

You just shot me in the chest.