Wednesday, March 4, 2015

from p.4 on Mon., Mar. 2nd


  • A photograph is all it
    takes
    for the raging tide
    to flood my brain
    drowning the hope
    that kept me sane.


  • We get lost
    & hold on to what could
    be anyone.
    You appear resolved.
    Only we will know.


  • Young love is stupid
    love, it is
    unique.

    She told him to forget.
    He can't
    forget
    where she used to rest
    her head on
    his chest.

    Memories are the graves
    of good times left
    on the heart and a
    scar on the soul.


  • As the salty ocean air runs
    through my hair,
    I laugh a little
    realizing that my life feels like
    a country song,
    sitting on the back of a pickup
    watching the sun rise.

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