How do I tell her in words she understands that I'm hurt.
That's too long for a poet.
But I'm hurt.
Would using less words make a better poem?
How do I explain myself:
That I am hurt.
With short lines.
So much pain,
So much loss.
Would it be enough to just say:
Guys,
I'm
Hurt.

It was a wound,
A wound that healed
but left a scar:
So dim, hardly observable,
But it was there.
I walked around with pride,
I was healing inside,
But there was a dim painting
On my heart.
Each line represented a moment of 'oh, that hurts'.
But I was moving on.
There was a burden,
Sitting by me -
Not hovering on my back
As we managed to be friends
For a while.
I was sitting, observing my hands -
There was once a scar there;
It was now gone.
I put my hand on my heart,
To check an old wound:
It was gone,
But so was the last beat -
Of my heart.

I once had a family.
I once thought I had a family.
I once thought I could have a family.
I looked everywhere for a sip of love -
May it be unconditional, I had hoped.
I thought: Love, family - so truthful like nothing else,
But - no love, no family; I started to wither.
One leaf after another, I fell.
I thought I could have it.
All of it - that love.
But - alas.
Alone.
Until
I -

I am in plain sight:
A parrot on a pink tree,
But no one is around.

I am in plain sight:
A fish on the beach,
Having fun with the sand.

I am in plain sight:
A leaf growing on an old bench
Feeling the steady wind moving my hand.

I am in plain sight:
A memory.
A song.
A lullaby.

I am in plain sight - hiding,
Waiting to be found.

High beat, low beat, fast beat -
Blood rushing in veins
And the beats continue
High, low - stable
It was him,
But he's dead -
High beat
But then
Low beat;
All memories rush within - fast beat
There are no memories, high beat.
He's gone, low beat.
She, too, stable.
Stable, but dead.
Calm - she thought, but no
Now hings have changed.
It was time,
It is time,
It is never time.
She never knew,
She still does not,
But He knows, so she is resting
Until it is stable, hoping:
Perhaps, eventually?
Stable.
High beat, low beat - no beat.

Fire burning cold under the sky of her thoughts

As wind grabs her fiercely, and closely, and slightly 

Lets her go - 

When things are left unattended, uncared for 

They tend to find a way to grow. 

The crack in the window, the hole in the wall,

The endless voices that occupy her thoughts:

Everything points in one direction, 

But the fears outweighed her seeming bravado. 

What lies ahead had already lied beneath 

And nothing could scratch the feelings she no longer bore. 

It was an act of bravery - or foolishness, 

To fight her demons alone, 

Not that she lost the battle - or the war;

but she lost so much more.

Fighting the mayhem could not be done with warmth, 

And for that she had become cold.

Cold was her soul, 

Harsh was her path - 

And as her feet bled, 

Her heart could no longer bounce.

In her eyes I see
A thousand smiles, I hear
A sad whisper.
When she talks,
She fakes
A few tones of grief.
She tries to make me think,
She is sad so I break
And tell her
Not to fear.
She wants me to be
Her knight when dawn
Is shining at its peak.
She thinks life is
One goodbye
And loads of hellos and come here.
I never cared,
And walked away,
And let sunlight be her escape.
Until one night,
I opened my eyes
And she was not there.
All the smiles were fake
And all the tears were true
But I was fool to think:
All she needs is a knight
To make her fairy tale real -
All it was that she was lost
And in need for a way
To put her pieces back to place.
She died of a disease
I did not think existed:
The disease of lonesome -
And insecurity.