And every night
I asked myself
The same question
"When will I stop thinking about you?"
And every night
Every answer
Silence

You never stole my heart

I saw you coming

And I just knew

I was meant for you

So you couldn't have stolen

What was already yours

I used to love you
I, you
love
did love
use me?

I point to the pictures in screens,
question the appeal,
who will attend my funeral i scream,
they won't notice the sirens going off or the waves crashing through,
they won't notice the flesh dropping off or the burned bones,
So will they notice me being buried?
I question despite knowing the answer.
Will they replay the memories spent?
I question despite knowing answer
a desperation of a scenario where they prove me wrong hinges in me.
Maybe they never saw me as a friend, i sigh sitting under a willow,
Maybe they never saw me as a human, i drown in ocean.
I was just an experience..
or just a memory of sorts..
Just a corpse who'll no one will cry for.

Justice
Can
Be
Delayed
But
Justice
Eventually
Finds
It's
Way.

The sky has seen all versions of you.

It sees you when you are brave and strong,
Also, it sees you when you are a complete mess, falling apart at the seams,

And yet, the stars still shine brightly for you at night, because you are beautiful.
And no matter where you are at, you are worth it.

Just remember that during the times you break and are at your lowest.
You are worth the good things.

There is a different kind of intimacy
in incomplete stories -
You both know
a version of each other
that the world knows
nothing about..