A Poem About Nothing

Sleeping, as the cold dead night creeps upon you stealing your every blanket, laughing as you shiver even more, watching the second hand on the clock wind down to stop I begin to wake and ask myself how I got here, why this place always seems so dark, filled with hatred I don't understand, but of course the things I love the things we all love will never be fully understood. Like the color in the sky after a afternoon shower or the way the moon reflects off of the ocean how about why is grass green, or the color green is grass. Why does a kiss feel so good, and why do I get scared of her? can these pictures ever make it into my head or will I come to realize I have nothing left to talk about. Like an outlit spitting out sparks, because you pissed it off not because you stuck another fork in there... I remember planting a tree, four days later, a storm killed it like watching water dry up into nothing, to fall again like tripping and hurting yourself, but you still stand back up how do these days keep me going...I guess it could be her the way she makes me feel, when I fall I stand back up to see her when I cry, she's right there to dry my tears up when this place blurs to darkness, her eyes light my way. But someday, I will not be here, off in another time where I can forgive myself for the ways I've sometimes been will god look at me diffrently, I pray he does not turn his back on me 'cause then what would I have left... A sunset setting in the north, like watching heaven fade away or the moon suddenly vanishing, to no ones knowlege the time of wonder is slowly disappearing so with memories in a center fold, and hunger in the bedroom I pray I can always dream about her.