Sweet notes
that make my heart choke
nearly every break of day.
My sweetie
is so sweet
if she were candy
she'd rot my teeth.
I'm just thinking
of things
that think themselves
to me.
I'm not trying
to make an art
I only like writing
that doesn't require of me a conscious start.
Along those lines
of these natural extensions
I reflect on last nights
apprehensions.
How should you feel
when you watch fake afflictions
knowing they were real
for someone, at some point?
Movies make me cry
but they're still just movies.
I love them and leave them
B/C they're their story
and so I halfway resent them.
I always see myself
but secretly not enough.
As if the grass could ever
be
or not be
green enough.
