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Owen May 2021
And everything felt so fragile.
This glass house we built.
Like any change in circumstance
would shake the ground,
would bring everything
crashing down.
And I know
we all have a past,
but I wish I was in those photographs.
And Ive been betting it all
that we would last,
but I hear the darkness calling.
I dont wanna go.
Owen May 2021
These days are beautiful.
The nights follow suit.
Yet behind these still and silent eyes,
I am burning.
Hopelessly yearning
for rain to come,
to douse me,
to drown me.
Washing away
the violence in my head,
the fires fueled
by words unsaid.
;
Owen May 2021
Lately,
I keep having moments of mourning
the passing of the life I lived
of the boy full of masochism,
self-destructive determination,
ruled by pain
and fear.
In instances of stillness,
I close my eyes
and I'm back
on the bathroom floor
fading out once more.
I see the pain in her eyes
as I walk away,
again and again,
as I turn to stone.
Nostalgia fills my senses
but he is dead and gone
and I buried him deep.
;
Owen May 2021
How I wish I could see myself
through your soft brown eyes.
See the virtue and constitution
that you love.
If I could see what you see,
dispel my insecurities.
I would have the strength
to carry this pain,
to change the world,
to keep you from all harm,
to love myself,
as much as I love you.
She makes me feel alive, and worth living for.
Owen May 2021
Tonight, I'm intoxicated
under oak trees,
and moon beams,
feeling things I've not felt
in too long.
I have been so
out of touch.
I've been too much
in my head,
wishing I were dead,
living
in agony instead.
And so,
tonight,
I'm intoxicated.
Owen May 2021
I always hated Sundays.
They riddled me
with anxiety
from morning till midnight.
A sense of dread,
hanging my heart
and my head.
Another week gone
and I'm still here,
feeling all alone
its all almost
too much to bear.
I'm crippled by
lack of control.
Sunday's my chest caved in
with the weight of my soul.
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