wellhi, how are you?
i am a word-smith and you are a manipulator of
points and lines with lines to points and shapes
and shades and a pen made of rain clouds.
danger, danger-hi, how are you?
i bend syllables into buildings and you take
points to lines and make dreams with your
pen made of rain clouds and a canvas
thick like steel and;
hi, how are
the word 'point' is all you need and that
pen is all you need to
make lines and points
dreams with a canvas like steel and
not a word to follow you.
.22the ocean died
the paper cranes
hey hello twenty-sixteen
fireflies and the stars in
the a t m o s p h e r e
goodbye goodnight five-
thousand hollow n i g h t
times; you have served
me with eyes full of love
laced by false and fake
roses draped across our
the sky died
paper cranes, and
goodbye dead sky
have a good
yeaaahhyou're probably tired of these-
I would most definitely be lying
if I told them I got my inspiration
from someone that's already
reached their biggest dreams.
so, I'm not going to lie;
my biggest inspiration could
possibly be the only person
that has expressed sincere,
true belief that I can make
it if I suck it up and be the
best person I can be and
as cheesy as that sounds
you would be surprised.
this person-she-can fucking
do anything from turn white
into lovely watercolor, to
rock the god damn stars
and make you wish you
(were just as good)
she's everything; including
my best friend and she's
given me everything I
need for today/tomorrow/
when the world ends.
I fucking love you.
it's a little past 7pm and I just got done sending
a postcard to new york down the river and into
the cracks in the sky; hopefully the sun is shining
for you and everything is fine.
sometimes, I miss you.
there are stupid songs that kind of remind me
of you and I listen to them while I wait for you
to call me on the t e l e p h o n e
;; I hope you get my stupid reference.
it's 7:10PM and I still kind of miss you.
if you haven't figured it out yet, I kind
of hold you higher than everyone else.
honestly, I could do without