The empty space on my wall stares,
It watches me sleep,
It whispers to me that no one cares,
In a voice that belongs to you.

It infects my head,
Taunting me with the inability to rest,
I think it wants me dead.

The empty space on my wall stares,
Your name used to hang there,
Sprawled on paper covered in tears,
Surrounded by hearts, memories of laughter.

Thoughts of guilt and regret make an entry,
And decimate my already broken mind,
My once proud, loving heart is now empty.

The night he lost it all,
His tragic fall,
He loved her with all his heart,
But they never got a proper start,
Breaking apart from within,
All due to his own sin.

I’d prayed for you to forgive me,
Yet God said it could never be,
“You’ve hurt her too much” he said,
“Get that into your stupid head”,
I tried and tried but it could never be enough,
But to get over what I had done, it was too tough.

And I got what he asked for,
A goodnight kiss.
A girl to miss.

In the middle of the room,
Singing loud with her medicine in hand,
With every second, fighting the gloom,
A subtle pain that is near unable to stand.

Trouble at home, in school and in her heart,
Trying to alleviate the pain with her drink,
Smiling to prevent falling apart,
Smoking and dancing to distract her ability to think.

Our broken girl is in pain,
Although her feelings have been numbed for the while,
She’s struggling to stay sane,
You have to look hard to see The Subtle Tear Within Her Smile.

His head hurts again
His eyes are black and bagged again
His lips an unrelenting frown again
His heart is sinking again.

Swollen with pain for no reason again,
The happiness from her he’ll never regain,
He cries out loud for something thus,
The sweet release of nothingness.

Born with the beauty of a starless night,

Brought up with the morals of benevolent Gods,

Educated with the knowledge of centuries passed,

Loved with the hearts of all I hold dear,

But it's not enough.

Blinded with the desperation for more than I'm owed,

Pained with the heartbreak of those lost,

Held down with the weight of decisions far gone,

Scarred with the attempts of self-therapy,

This is the Tragedy of Life.

She loved him,
They were young and stupid,
She was sad, he was happy,
Their relationship moved too quickly,
Although young they indulged in intimate love.

She loved him,
They were young and stupid
She was sad, he was happy,
He was busy being a child, this upset her,
She hurt herself and blamed it on him.

She thought she loved him,
But they were young and stupid,
He was tired and hurting,
He asked to confide in a childhood, female, friend.

It was not taken well.

She loved him,
But she was too young to understand,
There was no reply for 37 minutes,
She facetimed him in tears,
She reversed the camera to show what she had done,

Crimson blood ran down her arms,
It dripped down, corrupting the beige carpet,
Tears fell alongside the dark drops,
Her mum entered. The call ended.

She loved him,
2 hrs later he thought he’d killed her,
He broke up his ******, prepubescent razor,
Without a second thought he dug it into his leg.

Crimson blood ran down his leg,
It dripped down, corrupting the beige carpet,
Tears fell alongside the dark drops,
But no one entered, no one to help him.

She loved him,
She got stitched up and it became like it never happened.
He loved her,
He was left scarred and that image of her wrists never left him.

4 years later he sat in his room,
Alone,
He wrote a piece of text.
This Isn’t a Poem. Its My Life.

His lost, drunken mind,
Who knew it would be so unkind?
Tearing himself up from within,
Causing his body to become so thin,
Alone in a house, his only comfort to drink,
In an abyss of sorrow our boy will sink,
His face a wrinkled frown,
What he wouldn’t do to not feel so down,
Beautiful words set to be so informal,
Our boy, alone, just wanting to be normal.

40 innocent lives taken during the act of a war crime,
Not perpetuated by terrorism or dictators this time,
But by a close, western country and ally,
The US, you didn’t hear about it though and you may ask why
It’s because the media owned,
And you’ll only ever be shown,
What they want you to see,
Which means you’ll never be
Informed of the important events,
And the corruption will never be sent,
Back to the hell it came out from,
And no one will ever know about the bomb,
And the school bus it hit in Yemen,
Young souls never to become men and women,
But at least I know about Theresa’s dancing,
And all the other ******* about prancing,
A world uncaring of what we want and choose,
When will there be good news?

Why do you cry?
Is all you think about really the urge to die?
Do you truly just want to let go and fly?
Have you honestly lost all hope to try?
When I look at you all I can do is sigh,

You’re useless, boy,
Thrown around by life like rag doll toy,
Why wont you get up and fight?
Use all of your strength and might,
Why wont you stand up, boy?
All things you love you destroy,
Self-destructive habits aren’t good you know?
Yet all this said you do it so,
Why do you cry, boy?

Smiling,
A fleeting, short lived moment of happiness is corrupted,
There you are again,
Running around in my mind.

Memories of staring out of the open window,
Framed by your purple, fabric curtains,
The tree outside waving to me as warm breezes flowed through the window,
It’s distinctive red leaves dancing around the strong, brown trunk,
Looking down I see your head resting on my chest,
Your long brown hair spread randomly and imperfectly perfect along my body and your bed,
My arm snaked around your shoulder, down your delicate back,
Encasing you in a protective shield of a seemingly undying love,
You’d look up, noticing my smiling gaze and just smile,
An open mouthed, teeth baring smile that could silence my demons,
But its not directed at me anymore,
who is it directed to?

I return to real life,
Left empty and lonely I sit,
My fleeting high of the rare drug ‘happiness’ gone,
Taken away by the smile that used to supply it to me.

I shouldn’t care I ended our relationship,
Get out of my head.

Is it possible to miss someone you don’t love?
Because if it’s not I made a big mistake.

Did you hear their silent whispers?
Of broken cries and moans?
Dead behind the eyes as they walk,
Of all the sadness you have sown,
Leaving them to question the reason,
Your heart is full of villainous treason.

Did you look away as they bled?
From another youthful blade?
Forever questioning the reason why,
The hellish world that you have made,
As the streets turn a crimson red,
‘50,000 more nurses’ is what you said.

Did you taste their scared skin?
As they wept over fresh war wounds?
Children killing themselves for freedom,
Just wanting to write life saving tunes,
But you look at their skin choosing to hate,
Is that what you’re to be remembered for, mate?

Did you touch my screeching wail?
From the sorrow I have regained?
Searching for relief from this solemn pain,
As my selfish loneliness is now reframed,
Now lying on my deathbed I wonder,
How long until I’m called from down under.