I tried to get rid of the loud silence
Of your voice ringing in my head
I tried to shut out the presence
Of your absence
But the more I tried
The more crowded I get
In the solitude of loneliness

We don’t often visit
the pit of our stomachs
but when we do
things just aren’t good

Saw it all,
One last time...
Slowly, pressed "DELETE"
Swore to myself,
This mistake shall not repeat.

But I know, you know
I was bluffing.

It happened again.
I saw it all one more time,
One last time.
But this time, my hands don't tremble
I press not slowly, but swiftly "DELETE"
And I know, for sure,
It won't repeat.

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

Is it stress?
Is that what keeps me tired?
Is that whats making me a mess?
Is that why everything backfired?

Is it stress?
Is that what makes me forget?
Is that what bounds me to my bed?
Is that why I always fret?
Is that what fills me with dread?
Makes me feel dead?

Is it stress?
Its just a me thing I guess.