I stare at a particular star
It's light isn't steady
It rather flickers.
I asked a friend
He said it meant
That It's been dead For years
And no one even knows
No one notices
As long as it still sends it's light
Over the hundreds of millions of miles.
I asked myself
Why he never noticed
How it's been a while
Since i started to flicker.
How do you share a bed with someone
Share your breakfast with someone
Share your thoughts with someone
Share your laughs and tears and dreams and past and fears
Then meet them someday
On a side walk
And "stranger-small talk"
How do you hide all of that in your pocket
How do you shove it down your throat
How don't you hug them and cry your lungs out.
How did i do that
Just last night.
I always wonder how people just un-love someone.. Treat them normally after once having such intensive intamacy
Do not wish for me so much
In your prayers.
I will be the biggest nothing
That you've touched.
"I never learned how to un-love people"
I told you on a lazy afternoon.
A yellow curtain changing the shades of the room that was blue
From lilac to green to the colors of the drops of dew.
"i cannot love you if you still love him"
You told me with a change in your tone
"but love can come in so many shapes! I could leave but still care although!"
Now the room Is still blue
I am six months into something new
But i still never learned
How to ever un-love
Every heart that i one day knew.
How do you learn to un-love someone you once carried in your heart?
All the broken pieces
That I've seen in here
All these Sharp edges
Marvelous Minds that are never clear
If pain is art
Then pain is beauty
From this angle
From this window
Of dark fields
Mingled with drops of hope and faith
And messed up spectrum tinted dreams
Pray it would never
To everyone and every poem I've read in here. With love
On some days i miss your trauma
But never you.
I never miss the good days
Or the details
Or the mornings in bed sheets.
Perhaps because i never understood,
What i was or you were or we were,
so the trauma
Never washed away.
This is when i write my best poems
When there is
And then one hundred words fall into a piece of paper like drops of rain hurling from the sky.
You can not expect it
You may not understand it
Feel the moment
With your soul
Finds a home
In your ribs
It's a trauma