Untitled 2314.222 (for Philip Seymour Hoffman)

Because the sun doesn’t constantly shine.

Because sometimes our demons are faster than our recovery.

Because we don’t give rose bushes.

Because the needles point is sometimes the only feeling you know.

Because no amount of glue can piece together broken memories.

Because sometimes we are just a scrapbook of past loves.

Because everything isn’t alright.

Because being the villain, underdog, wingman, doesn’t equate to being worthy.

Because riches doesn’t equal wealth.

Because art imitates life imitates art imitates life imitates art.

Because living is the last thing any of us will do.

Remember the living.

Categories: PoetryTags: , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: