The Turner Breeze

Her redheaded text
about reading my poetry
just added a "good"
to my "morning"!

The jealous cellist 
in me appreciates
a burn out being
turned into something...good.

When life is generally shit,
it's the little things
that keep us
from cutting out our hearts.

I have replaced
my heart so many times,
thrown it into the breeze,
that I can't remember...anything.

ce la vie, we dream,
idol in our ideas,
righteous in our regret,
but at least I am trying to see the goodness.