Pop

sometimes all it takes
is thought of you calling me "kiddo"
and hearing a blues song
on thanksgiving morning
to bring tears washing over me
realizing you're not here,
that I miss you, your voice. 

- m.j.m

 and now I find the depths of me twisted and turned into a sickness that words fail to explain

- m.j.m

your name, written on the veins of flower petals,
your breath catches in the clouds, left to soar
until an exacerbated sigh grows heavy into tears, 
that fall down to the earth below.

the ground absorbs all that you are,
and we lay there beneath a blue ocean above
chests fluttering in sync, at the prospect
of melting together into the world. 

- m.j.m