Music brings this chilling feeling.
I talk alone to my white ceiling.
Their invasion feels like silent stealing.
I crack and break as my walls keep peeling.
Is this sensation truly healing?

Your presence feels like slow poison
I'm dying  
As I consume a dose of you daily

i think we got it wrong
when we think of strong

for its not a mind
that thinks of me and mine

or controlled
by need or greed

its one thats gone inside
and dissolved all internal needs
and turns towards the world
with hearts and hands of kind

We built
a tower
with hands
that did not know
how to touch.

It rose,
stone by stone.
Each word, a brick.
Each silence,
the mortar.
Promises—
vanishing into air.

We stood
at the bottom,
blaming the height
for our aches—
but the tower
was never
what broke us.

Love ties bows
around garbage bins.

Turns losses into wins.

Brightens a sky,
shortens a queue.

Changes one into two.