Call it greed,
I call it lust.

Call it feels,
Some go to dust.

Call it doom,
They call it fade.

Call me damned,
I call you a mess.


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The way your laugh echoes inside me after its gone,
Like they're plastered on my four walls,

The way your name is spoken in the air around us,
Like the hairs on my hands raised in unison,

The way you chatter on about your passion,
Like a selfless act of mine to just listen,

The way the air smells after it rains,
Like ripples of heat that escape the ground onto my face.


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Seasons Of Love

There she goes,
Walking by like the brightest most prominent being in your life,
Holding her hands close to her chest,
Caging her heart from the shelter of rain.

There he goes,
Walking by like the closest meaning you have to living,
Wrapped up hands surrounded by pockets,
Caging himself from the intensity of the sun.

There she goes,
Walking towards you,
Like the first snow in winter,
Tender and brittle.

There he goes,
Walking with you,
Like the first signs of love,
Dawning a new summer.


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