those three words came to my mind
when i saw your red but beautiful eyes
i felt i was blind this whole time
but you were nothing but a devil in desguise

i really hated you for a long time
because you made me fall from the enormous climb
the only times when my will to live was near
it was because you had spoken to me, my dear.

It was a graveyard and overcast sky
and I sat with book and accordian in hand,
hearing the world with its screams
swallow up around me.
The people whom I had loved and lost,
Papa with his silver eyes
Mama her sharp tongue and tough love
Rudy whose hair the colour of lemons
and questioned why, the living and dead,
worlds apart, yet both did not have a choice.
I stood and screamed so that everything shook
the burning rubble and ash and dust
willing my words to bring it all back
but it did not come, and my breath rose in gasps.
Death had looked me in the eye and said,
“It’s not time yet.”
I would shut my eyes to the world
only decades later.
I will understand that there was hate and pain
there was sadness
but even more so, there was love and joy.
I will know that the people I loved had reason
to kiss goodbye
whether it was their own hurt
or saw it as a necessity,
but they were never truly gone from me
always somewhere nearby,
in the thick and thin
frail and worn
of times.
I would learn
to forgive Death that day.
I will understand that
and I will be hurt,
but I will be okay.

~

Not all deaths are sad.
Some, meant to ease their own pain,
Are called freedom.
While some,
Meant to ease the pain of others,
Are called love.

© BT

Hello, my name is Sarah
And I like to write.
Last night my wife
Caught me in bed with a pen.

"How could you do this?
We've a house and three kids!"
Red ink, dripping off my fingertips
I gave them a lick and claimed
"It's not what you think."
But she could see the proof
Written clearly on the sheets.

She cried, through mascara eyes
Blubbering about love and how it died
And I chimed with the I tried and lies,
How I wasn't satisfied with the path of our life
She knew words were my *****,
My own personal vice.
So easy to change- to manipulate
I could take all of my pain,
Reword it inside my brain
And for a moment feel like I'm not insane.

Now she's throwing the blame,
And I'm the one that has to catch it
Boy, she's got great aim
Hasn't missed a shot yet.
Just one little slip and I'm hit
With the biggest bullet

"Get out of my house
And don't come back again,
This is the last time I'll ever find you in bed with a pen."

-SLuR

I remember sitting with my legs crossed
at an empty parking lot with you.
Burning our lungs,
sharing our deepest secrets at 3am
while I rest my head
on your shoulder that cold summer night.
I sang along our favorite songs
and you wished that time stopped
so we could still be together.

But alas,

You are still too damaged.
You think too much.
You are too practical.
You are not yet ready for anything.

And I’m left confused
and angry
and frustrated
and a little bit hurt, I guess.

So here we are again,
so here we go again.

Who would have thought
that we would actually
burn even faster
than our cigarettes?

                                                    ­                        
 — apbq

long hair cut short.
apology after apology.
jackets often worn,
if not, sweaters or
long-sleeved tops.
anti-social,
not because
i hate people,
but i fear they hate me.
isolation in my bed,
sometimes,
panic attacks
in the bathroom.
constant overthinking,
whether 3 am or 3 pm.
scribbles thoughts
into poems,
but hides them.
pushes away,
even though i want
to pull them closer.