I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

“I love you” I said, cheerfully.
“I want to die” you said.

"I love you" I said, cheerfully.
"You're the only thing keeping me alive" you said.

"Overdose" the medics said, sadly.
"I love you too" you said, quietly.

"I love you" my ghost said.
You lived, cheerfully.

my mind said
you write when you are bothered
you write when you feel pained
you write when people fail you
so you write all the time
whether it's in the morning or dawn
whether it's in the night or in darkness
you write to silence your feelings
believing it's the only way to remain sane
even though you are not wrong
you write to be the best version of sane

There will be a day where I can look at him in the eye
And say
You are
Evil
You are a
Monster
You are not my dad anymore

Oh I am in love
I realised this
When your absence seeped through my life,
obliterating myself from it,
In my faded memory somewhere in the corner
I’m imprisoned in the night you left,
when you walk out of this door
with tears rolling down your face,
And drowned in ego and anger
I remember, I didn’t even call you out.
I realised this
after you’re long gone.
Now I’m just waiting for
stars to fall
to grant me “you”as a wish
or take me to you,
Because
I realised this
Oh I was in love then,
Oh I am still in love
with you,
after you’re long gone!

The slicing sting of the blade as it strokes my skin
Is not pain
But relief
From the raw bleeding within.

The draining drips of crimson as it drowns the floor
Is not unsettling
But reassuring
Compared the truest stomachache of all.
Living