The Anatomy Of A Typewriter


#1 Perhaps, it isn’t necessary to be strong
at every moment, but to recognize
which moments require us to be strong.

#2 In his arms she slept like a rose,
pressed between the pages of this favorite story.

#3 If burning is the only thing
I am capable of then; I shall burn
brighter than any falling star.

#4 Love as freely and naturally
as you breathe.

#5 Scar’s
are life’s
for those who are

#6 They told her to dim her light
for they could not see.

She told them;
The sun never apologized
For setting the world
On fire.

#7 You left ink stains
around my heart
they spill at
the edges of
my fingertips declaring
themselves home on
pieces of paper.

#8 I feel you tell me
in my dreams,
that she left you
like how you left me.
But, honey, there is
No remedy for memories
Dressed eloquently
In regret.

#9 Perhaps, we create
art to make sense
of the chaos.

Or, maybe we create
So we don’t lose
Ourselves in it.

#10 The music your
heart creates,
haunts me like
a heavy weight.

For each beat
Like a sigh,
Closer and closer
To a slow goodbye.

#11 Perhaps, we exist solely
to find our individual
truth and to honor them

#12 Let’s get lost in the pages
of your favorite faded fantasy,
and break away from the
captive that binds our reality.

#13 She was the prelude to the tragic
love story etched across each
beat his heart orchestrate.

#14 Memories of us
linger like a
sweet perfume after
a quiet but
final embrace.

#15 Dance in the confetti
of the hate they spew,
for you see the world
in rainbow hue.

It matters not if
They call you boring,
Because there’s no
Art in conforming.

#16 You have labelled bottles
but never drank
the deep complexities
they contain.

#17 Your words are a thousand arrows
searching for my heart,
my blood spilling
into words of art.

#18 Perhaps the essence of self-love
is to be defeated by many
things life imposes upon us;
and to rise each time with more
courage and compassion than before.

#19 For every flower that
blooms within you,
a whole row
blossoms within me.

But, for every petal
That falls within you,
A whole garden
Dies in me.

For it is always me
Who suffers deeply;
The complexities of
feeling too much

#20 Your laugh is the kind of song I
can listen to all day
but, it is the low whispering
of your voice behind my ear
that absolutely kills me.