about || info || writings || photography || credits || host || journal || current || archives ||
extras || links || friends || email || note || member of || previous || next || myspace


A poem is never finished, only abandoned.  ~Paul Valéry
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.  ~Carl Sandburg
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.  ~Thomas Gray
Poetry is not always words.  ~Audrey Foris
Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.  ~Edgar Allan Poe


Where Would We Be?
2003-11-01 - 10:35 p.m.

Nights grow colder, the days grow longer

You are never here, even when you are

Things grow tenser, emotions run deeper

I know you’re wishing upon that elusive star..

Words come shorter, sex becomes quicker

You are never here, even when you are

Motions beget anger, anger begets silence

I know you’re wishing to mark me with scars.

Routines dissolve, and lies begin

You are never here, even when you are

Laughter dies, and smiles are denied

I know you’re wishing to wander afar.

Where would we be, if you were to leave?

How would we survive, if you were to say goodbye?

What could we do, if you gave so few?

Who would you be, if not for me?

raw || truth
Past Memories:

2006-01-13 - Fear In My Skin
2006-01-10 - The Moon - Our Silent Audience
2005-12-14 - Promise
2005-12-11 - Pure Bliss
2005-08-31 - In This Grave