I can’t love anymore.Except for you…I love you so much it hurts to breathe.

I was just an option.Blown easily to piecesand offered to the skyby the sweet laced painupon your lips.

You are the poemthat sticks in my throatteaching me to whisperwith the voice of my heart.

Il troppo mi urta – è così insolito.Mi sentivo a disagio, spaesata -come una bacca di fratta montanatrapiantata sulla strada.E non avevo fame. Allora capiiche la fame è un istinto di chi guarda le vetrine...

I build boxesand place them at your feet,to measure the distance between dreams and reality.

REMEMBER HER- sudden wind come through your open window a silent wave fall inside of room you run to catch your curtain and she is not in that room—– remember her a little you are...

Careful.The fall is quick,steep,and permanent.

Through windows,in wishing wells,whispering in the wind…that’s where I find you.

Birthing hope from the madnessthat perches on the fenceof our once perfectdreams.

I die a little,In the echo of your silence.

I need to work on me.The mewithout you.

I balance you on the end of my pen.Teetering between loveand letting go.

I’ve never seen beauty so devastatingas in the linesthat trace our hopeand fall from the stars.

Bridge burned from end to end,and I don’t miss you anymore.You delivered silenceI’ve birthed freedom.

Steep fall to the groundshatteringlike clay pigeons missed by bad shotsand unsteady hands.

I bleed to un-break you,un-mending me.I fall to save you…now who will save me.

In that wounded place,buried betweenmy ribs and letting go,I miss you.