Emily C. Knight Poems

Would I trade the wrinkles of your eye for the million dollars which would fix all your problems and mine?
Would I forfeit your injured past to make your slate so clean-clean for me to write our story on?
Your years, do I wish I had them in my journals, documented, layed out and catalogued?
Would it have been me instead of her to break you?
...

Dark and lonely roads. The snow piles up in slushy puddles around my feet.
I look for him where I know he will not be.
The ghost of this connection eludes me, stumbling my way back to sanity.
Places unfamiliar, yet as known to me as the trees that haunt my dreams of he that was before and before.
...