't-minus' (july 2009)

These words falling to the page
arrange
themselves
in an impolite way.
These sighs marking off the days
display
themselves
in a frightening way.

And I don't know if what I feel
is a ghost or something that's real.
And I don't know if what you say
will follow me when I'm away.

These times ticking on the face
replace
the times
I could just be alone.
These words creaking in my throat
devote
themselves
to praising your ghost.

And I don't know if what I feel
is a ghost or something that's real.
And I don't know if what you say
will follow me when I'm away.

These waves crashing on the shore
implore
that you
will forget my name.
These words burning in my ears
all fear
that you
are wishing the same.