These days I feel the cobwebs inside me sway

Whenever the wind blows.

And I'm never face to face with winter anymore.


It all goes back

To when I found my tears in your dirty laundry,

shoved carelessly in your back pockets and mixed with change.

Some kind of…

forgotten memento.


I laid myself down in the snow

And soiled it through your clothes-

-Sweat, blood and three days worth heartbreak and grime-

My kind of forget-me-not.

I left before sundown

Because it was one of those things

You knew you couldn't just talk about.

If it had meant more, right now I would be hurting.


Now I make love to my strophes (to keep from being lonely)

Kiss my pages and caress my words,

Close my eyes and pretend you still know who I am.