I'm lost

in the depth of her eyes

I drowned in a past life

So sincerity is my life-vest

I feel the vast coldness

of the ocean within her

Causing me to sink

I'm drowning again

Only this time

I'm taking her with me

I lost my heart in the aspen trees and my soul in a child.

But I find my youth on every

pay-stub

and my mind

always on her...

Sandpaper

Best describes my smoothness.

Add alcohol

And I become a whetstone

With the ability to turn a dull night

Into a sharp painful morning

I overthink

You rarely understand

Which leads me to feel

misunderstood

A feeling I can't stand.

Tar coated lungs

Dirty hands

Vulgar tongues

There's no time to change

When hours pay dollars

So the forty I sell

Will buy my drinks

Among the other blue collars

Minds are easily won

with a cursive tongue,

but turning love into art

is the hardest part

-knowing this...

I think you'd make a great canvas