What Will

Tomorrow I didn’t ache to add
My take
On the sound of falling snow

When I was down I wasn’t determined to describe
My spin 
To the din of footsteps dancing

That life lived, I proved to honor
My Maker
With silence, happy silence

“cement”

It’s extraordinarily tough knowing this

That its smiling roots with the system became one

Yet none surgeon nor modern-day savior can sever

It’s the pain of the years that no needle shall touch

It’s the radioactive frosting on the most delicious cake 

Feathers and Lilies

It is well before dawn and the quiet inside 
The foreign and air-starved loud quiet inside
Finds me silently searching the strangest of voids
Where a grasp I despise sends me straight to my knees
And I’m told to not care for the question at hand

Or ask it in vain to the emptiest ears
Won’t the day come

Untitled

I would likely just watch you a lot 

Approach you from time to time, I may

To touch and make certain you’re real

With words and sentiment fully spent

What more need be said

That leaves, fire, and ink have not already uttered