A shard of ice, a burning flame
I'm dying to forget your name.

deep
down under
There are things no one knows
nor understands
not quite yet.
They've drowned within you,
Because they were too heavy for you to take on
and one day they will resurface
but not quite yet.
THEN FIRE
crashing and burning
but we all know that water will extinguish the rising flames inside you
so you put it back in the bottle
for it to drown again
but not quite yet.
For sometimes these feelings are uncontrollable
and we have to embrace pain
suffering is inevitable

the drowning is what kills you.

I hate this
The way you make me feel.

I cry
Every
Single
Day that I don’t see you
Obsessive over little things,
My mind runs at 1000 miles per hour.

Your eyes: green, orange too,
I could study them for days and see something new every minute.

You make me laugh to my stomach - I think you’re the first to ever do that
And you make me wail in sadness - I think you’re the first for that too
I’m losing my mind

Not everyone can accept you
It takes time
But all will be ok because people will realise that you are who you are
And no one can change that.

So let’s run away
Rob a bank
Hot-wire a car
Or just live one day at a time

I love this

They replaced the road.
with a different colour.
A much lighter grey,
then the other tiles,
that overlap and flow.

They replaced the road,
to mask the crimson red,
to stop children from seeing splatters on the tile,
growing up too young.

They replaced the road
so that we don't have to see
as those who are gone are always forgotten.

But we won't forget you,
who made us realise the impermanence
Too young, we are for this.

They replaced the road,
But I don't go there anymore
I don't see the lighter grey,
of which crimson used to be,
before, there was security
a bliss of ignorance.

Becuase with every loss of life,
there comes new
a new feeling
a new sadness
a new road tile.

What else has been covered up?

How funny is it,
that tomorrow is your birthday,
And you're not here to celebrate?

How odd is it,
That you, beyond life
seem to have such an effect on those of us
that still have to wake up in the morning?

How crazy is it,
that this time last year,
bubbly and bright,
You would wake up, another year old?

This year is different

You're gone
gone- what a funny word.

This year, your birthday will be full of tears,
rocked with an abyss of depression and guilt.

This year is one to feel lonely

How funny is it,
that tomorrow is your birthday,
And you're not here to celebrate?