walk the rooms in horror,
see genius in corners,
there.

realise that he may cry
all the tears of life.

The sun
A bullet hole
Burning through
The grey-white sky
Waiting on a train
At a crossing
Traffic standing still
Graffiti strewn as boxcar pass
Artful dodgers creating
On steel canvas'
Leaving their unsung scars
Smokey music fills my head
One of those moments
In my memory scrapbook
Thoughts of one who
Used to make me know
All is good with the world

Your tongue,
a blade that remembers
where I am softest,
where the scar tissue is thinnest.
You wield it without hesitation.

You ask for acceptance
as if I owe it
to the thing that has hollowed me out,
made me flinch at shadows,
left me raw and singing
with wounds I did not choose.

Sorrow has blackened the horizon.
The future—
a thing I used to believe in—
is now a quiet ache
that hums under my skin.

I flinch at your sarcasm.
It’s a whip,
a steady rhythm of harm
I cannot outrun.

And the problem you refuse to see—
it is breathing.
It is alive.
It soars above me like a black kite,
leaving me marked in ways
I can never explain.

I search for home
as though it’s a place that exists,
a place that will hold me
without splintering.

But you—
you crown yourself in their love
while their laughter
cuts you from behind.
Every sacrifice I make
is a ghost.

You hand them my offerings,
giving them weight they do not deserve.
And here I stand,
naked of hope,
bare of safety,
still whispering your name
like a prayer
to a god who doesn’t answer.

The tower penetrates
the puffy pink
clouds, and the
horizon squirts
sweet rain.
My face gets
sticky.
She is the sky.

If the time
could flow
The thought of you
would wash away

And who knows why
I want to look far ahead
Cause this is how you cure a lovesickness
Cause that's how it stops hurting
Yet I feel defeated
Yet I feel like I'm losing everything
Yet I feel like I'm losing nothing

If time could pass
I could be next to you