The depth of us can only be compared
to a puddle on the street.
Rainwater, mud and some leaves
but I tried to swim in it because
in my eyes it was an ocean.
Searching for you was a useless quest
tying to find meaning in the meaningless
writing poems and love stories
about the failures of lust
and greed for the human body
But still I wore the night like a mask
your fingers would swiftly undo
the buttons of my sanity
and the hopeless romantic
would take another dive
You can get your copy of my first novel on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Poetry Books: Identity Crisis, Rehab
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