He thinks of me when its time,
A quick post-it note
To inform me of his position.

This loving ritual,
A running joke
A daily reminder of our growing closeness
And sometimes it’s just because he’s gross.

In my family
If your lungs don't **** you,
Your heart will.

My lungs don't work
To full capacity,
And my breathings heavey.

But my heart is clenched
Within a fist, crushed and twisted,
Only getting every other hit.

My lungs can't breathe,
And my hearts been abused -
Question is which will **** me first?

If you picked me
to love,
I'd be honored.

She was beautiful,
like they are on paper
on the brush strokes of a
preserved oil painting.
A portrait only tweaked
To portray her sweetest
hidden beauty.

The colouring of a soul -
Colouring the world
with nothing more than her
Fingertips.

Our first date -
a bottle of cheap whiskey
and awkward glances.

The taste of it sweet upon my lips,
before I got to taste you.

Through drunken ramblings
and childlike giddiness
we learnt so much.

You were more intelligent than me,
I like that -
to be challenged.


I'm challenging enough,
I don't need the added intelligence.

And soon one cheap bottle of whiskey
became two.

When the moon shines,
It paints pictures with my soul

Read, explore, examine
Don't just accept.
Shape the world around you
And take chances,
Live the life you deserve,
Not the one you were delt.