Just Me And You

Just Me And You

I lift my arms while the wind’s force reckons through, did you sleep while I dreamt away from you?

There isn’t a place so safe while the clouds rage on, do you see me fade till the sun is gone?

And I worry, that there is none, when your tears taste so bitter, the touch of my tongue.

Feel me break away, darkness swoons, petals fall, seeds begin again, the night rages on, do you fear the sun, is the black our tomb, the flower coldly blooms.

It’s not safe while the winds rage on, all these years, where has the time gone?

And you look at me, when there’s something left to breathe, just hold me, it’s a place where dread causally weaves.

It pushes through the clouds, I said it’ll pass, but the clouds cover my eyes, it’ll always last.

I feel it rage on, you know I’m gone.

Is it what you always hold, do I fear that cold?

My Inefficiencies


Descriptions in my room slowly crawl, a locked door behind a see through wall.

I can feel the air push out against me, a swift scent of karma, truth kisses and lips tease.

Tied around this chemistry of love compounds, does regret always make the same woeful sounds?

And you were here, laid out on a knife, the glass room shows us the reeling sky.

I want a place to hide, a home of untraceable lies, but reality doesn’t like our hopeful goodbyes.

Witness as the roaring winds strangle me, the senses twisted by my inefficiencies.

Let us slip into the mild open seas.

Pondering Sea


Settle in a wave, surrounded by celestial blue and white.

Your fingers edge the spacious sea until the sun sleeps.

The moon whispers lullabies as the waves slowly dream.

Motionless water wraps around your weightless self, a feeling of complete serenity.

Your curious eyes spread to the corners of the world till the edge of the sea is heard.

Your skin smoothed by the crystal sky called blue of light, mirrors trapped under the gentle sea.

Carried far from your home,you are steered towards the land where bees suckle honey dew.

The waves calmly set you on the beach with wind at half mast, leaving you to ponder, am I home at last?

The World 


The world, does it seem like a new beginning?
How man has gone and the birds are no longer singing?
Run, it’s all broken, the ending has become a silver lining.
Like how the water dries in the desserts burning binding.
The stars no longer shine and the moon no longer fades but discloses upon this ending day.
The world, it seems like a new beginning, but humbled in its dew, a roaring ending. 

200 Follwers!!

Hey everybody, I just wanted to thank you all so much for helping me reach 200 followers recently on my blog, Clipped Letters. 

It’s amazing reading all of the feedback and encouragement from you guys. Don’t forget to check out my Facebook page Clipped Letters, and I hope you all have a great day! ~Max

Inefficient Subtleties 

Inefficient Subtleties 

You know you make me.

I know you break me.

The character of love isn’t a pawn, no, you will never change, midnight till dawn.

Inefficient subtleties.

A place where you comprise my little needs.

Molding the clay while I wish for sleep, building an undesired bowl it seems to me.

Spill water inside.

Holes and cracks.

Do you see?

No matter where I go, you pryingly always know.
Lessons of a mind, buried deep, confusion, seclusion, animosity at your feet.

Begin again.

Where in your head do you nod at this immorality, my own human right isn’t your emotional practicality.
It wasn’t mean to be.

Antique Shop

Antique Shop

Antique Shop
Reasons and days spill hearted desires, flipping light switches when my shop opens to the custom buyers.

I wouldn’t notice a line drawn or a cup tipping, can I sell antiques when the vase caring water starts dripping?

Does it bother you when I kiss your smile, wiping tears when water hits my tiles.

Female features distract my gaze by the flowers, do you think a needle hides within a caving hay tower?

Guilt or truth, it’s all just hidden in my concealed lips, bronze cups breeze cool winds when you gently sip.

Playing out before me while a clock narrows a minute one from three, bashful hours always leap into the mild flirtatious sea.

Come and look over my shoulder when books dream, their vintage ink drips past a worn out seam.

Lessons of a mirror, buried in a wall, fellow men purchase items that speak rhythms of a call.

Quiet your curious mind and sleep where the bed did lay, antique shop lingers perhaps a moment, in a day.