I Might’ve

I might’ve loved you, perhaps,

when the fireweed was blooming in fall

and the trees became a swirling mess

of fire.

I might’ve loved you then,

when the snow fell in winters gone by,

or in hot, dusty summers.

I might’ve loved you, before

our words splattered the walls

like blood in the crime scene of

our romance, and

amidst the apologies that littered the floor

lay two broken hearts,

still beating,

still lonely,

still wanting to believe in the fairytale,

not the awful reality.

I might’ve loved you better,

had I known could be better,




The radio flickers in and out of static

Electricity in the air

Is breathed into our lungs

And static in our blood


Electricity in the air

News of war and hate

Static in our blood

Sullen eyes and empty hearts


War and abhorrence

Ravaged homes

Sullen eyes, empty hearts,

Soldiers that we used to know


Ravaged, empty homes,

Gun shots in the distance,

Soldiers that we once called friends

Become monsters as they march to the beat of our deaths

Inspired by: Alex Pardee


Tears roll down porcelain cheeks,

Lost in the haze of mid-October rain;

She falls to her knees —

at the grave of her love.

She presses her cheek against the gnarled bark,

tracing letters

and hearts —

A million names

carved into the tree

by drunken pocketknives.

She closes her eyes and remembers:

A laugh,

a smile,

the warmth of his fingertips

pressed gently against her lips.

She feels his hand reach for her;

Asking her to join him

once more.

His arms wrap around her,

and she’s enveloped in splintering bark.

The hallucination fades;

She is driven to madness.

I walk by and freeze —

Mesmerized by the rope

slung around a delicate neck,

the body hanging lifelessly

from snarled branches

in the moonlight.

Captivated –

By a love that meant enough

to die for,

and slipped though

her fingers

by nothing more than accident.

But now,

they’ll be together

in the depths of forever.


Poem that inspired the previous post :P

Gentle lips press against mine

And i am lost in his touch.

His arms rest around my waist,

Which had disappeared under his coat;

Of which I had stolen when

The weather turned against us.

The warmth that resonates

Between our bodies —

Through soft t-shirts and

The rough texture of denim —

Steams in the cold rain.

Moments lost in time

Drag on,

And the stillness

Becomes sanctuary to the two lovers,

Who stand alone

On the darkened pavement

Of a city that the map forgot.