Poetry
Music
Sleep

Pain doesn't have one meaning,
It has many synonyms
And each one of them different from the other.

Pain is love
We hurt people when we fall for them,
We give them the pain which makes them tough,
We give them the pain,
So they talk rough
And I've given this pain to someone.

Pain is regret
We hurt someone badly
But then we hurt ourselves more
Then they don't think of us and, sadly,
Our thoughts become sore.

Pain is faking happiness
We get hurt when we laugh
Without a reason with our smiles spread on our faces,
Like we are really happy
But when we pretend,
It hurts more than anything
And I've felt this pain.

Pain is watching yourself to be ignored
By the ones you've hurt
You want to tell them you're sorry
But they don't listen and make you more hurt
Burying you beneath the ground they were buried by you.

Pain is watching yourself cry
You look into the mirror,
You look into your mind
You wipe away your tears,
But the pain is still inside

Pain is thinking about death
You feel like your life is worth ending
Because watching yourself cry,
Is something you can't bear
But you don't want to hurt yourself
*So you just stare.

Watch out, ******
Your humanity
is showing.

I can see the black clouds
Forming over me,
The day getting darker,
Darker than the sea.

The birds flutter,
Flutter in a flock
Scared of something coming up,
Coming up soon to stalk.

The frown of heaven,
Roaring like a pard
The glow of lightening
Flickering in the dark.

The end is coming near,
Our hearts dwelled up with fear
We hope to wake up next day
Not seeing our loved ones asleep.

I hope to wake up next day,
Without my thoughts getting sweeped,
Forgetting everything,
Everything in my sleep.

i wonder if the doors in the house you grew up in
started slamming themselves to save your father the trouble.
i wonder if you can remember the last time you prayed,
and if you had trouble unfolding your hands.
i wonder if your mother knows
about the collection of hearts you hide in your closet,
i wonder if she could tell mine apart from the rest.
i wonder if your shoes know the reason why
you keep them by the back door and not your bedside.
and sometimes, i wonder
if you ever think about that night when i told you,
you wouldn't need to drink so much if you had me.
but it seems like we only speak when you've got body on your brain,
whiskey in your glass,
your judgement is overcast,
and you know i'm too weak to ignore you.
i learned how to translate your texts
from drunken mess back into english.
i am fluent in apology, but i don't ask you for them anymore.
this is just how it is.
it's not enough for either of us
but ******* it we are not above settling.
so i will ignore her name on your breath,
and you will ignore the fact that this means something to me.
i always thought the first time i kissed you,
it would be on your mouth.
i just wanted to be something warm for you to sink into,
something that could convince you to stay a second night.
but i sneak you out in the early morning,
and you take a piece of my pride with you when you go.
i am left to nurse the hangover from a wine i've never tasted,
wondering how this is possible.
waiting for the next drunk call,
for the next time i get to pretend we are lovers,
the next time i get to live out the fantasy i am most ashamed of.
it is the one in my head where you want me when you're sober too.

- m.f.