He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He watered the seed of sorrow with his tears
He fed it with the manure of old memories
He took it to sleep with him
And nurtured it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dips his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come

I think about how love
was always the thing that did that -
smashed into you, left you raw.
The deeper you loved, the deeper it hurt.

a chained dog
studded, spiked collar
straining against its neck

spinning blades
curved and glinting
****** for blood

a pressing stone roof
collapsing slowly
coming down

sharks circling the perimeter
teeth ready for ripping
salt water swallowing leaking eyes

a knitted doll
straw hair
and a cotton dress
her limp legs crossed
face in her hands
silent sobs
meet the mind’s ear

Fading
Faces disappear
So did my pain
Sweet black waters
Dragging me under
To their murky caves.

hands reaching across
nights where the dark
crawl on all fours
climbing torsos like a toddler

lips made for smiling
purses of pastry
pushed together like mountain ranges
the sun yet to scale their heights

nut brown eyes with layers
watery film worn in a mask
light hidden underwater
fingers interlace until knuckles whiten

Teenage angst
On the point of a knife biting flesh
Or ingesting rainbow confetti
Head tipped back
Mouth swallowing the sun

Under the dangling blade
Glinting and flashing sunlight
As it rotates
Deadly orbit above orbits
Rolling equine whites

A bead of crimson
Blossoms on growing skin

The gorge rising
Up the wet pink tunnel
Dragging claws and gouging as it surges
To spew out lumpy bone boulders
Though the picket fence smile
To cascade over the cliff of a chin

Wipe it clean with sandpaper
Scrape it back to bleed
Mop it with her hair
Catch chunks of carrot in the curls
Shake them out like shrapnel

Then count the corpses