Monday, March 4, 2013

Time Is Passing, And You Right Along With It

These words have been running through my head this week... Trying to write but I'm not sure how to put down these emotions yet.

I could hook up my heart to your ears and let my tears be your morphine drip
because maybe it's easier to let you slip away than it is to say goodbye

So I hold my breath
Because in the countdown to death the question of "why" melts into "when".
How much time do we have left? Because if I knew what I know now then...
Move pen move. Write me a mountain. Because headstones are not big enough.
My mother says stop it. Write me a poem to make me happy.
So I write this:
She smiles and says "gotta go"
I know.

Move Pen Move - Shane Koyczan

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