They say pain hurts the most when it comes knocking on our doors unexpectedly, but I would beg to differ. The most painful type of pain takes years to cultivate. it is when we, for some reason become so used to it to the point that we become numb, turning into statues of empty souls dressing up as humans.
When two poets love, Words start to hang in the air And lose their meaning.
Another haiku? Wow! I'm only so good with words until I actually need to use them. Just ask my girl. (Spoiler alert: I'm really bad at articulating my thoughts in the heat of the moment. That's why I'm here.)
We are all silhouettes Wrapped in the tapestry Of a blooming night Outlines etched messily Into a cotton wool sky Beautifully imperfect A stray wisp illuminates Sings sweet like our Honey bee laughs We smile, always Endlessly sunshine yellow For here we are youth Wild like dandelions Rebelling against being A common flower We paint the word **** In shining glitter Send it to outer space in A paper airplane Then dance on crazily Like the night is infinite Dreaming for a forever