It is hard to be loyal
When a friend ignores
The unwritten quiet code
Among better shores

They delicately drift away
Leaving no trace behind
Except unspoken words
That we cannot find

Bound to a promise
Turned to a curse
Our ups and downs
Poured out into verse

Rumors, secrets, and lies
Run rampant through the day
While we helplessly watch
Worn memories fade

The more that we struggle
The harder it gets
To work and untangle
Our huge woven mess

Like a broken record
We cannot mend
There seem to be cliffs
Around the next bend

We have built a wall
That cannot be torn down
Now in a sea of anger
We both stubbornly drown

Meaningless smiles
Can't fool us anymore
I think it is time
We walk out the door

It kills me to say this
I do not want to lie
Somehow I will still love you
I am saying goodbye

We are worn like winter coats
Held close while wild winds rage.
The scarf that suffocates the throat
The cloak that provokes the rain.
While the weather waits and wonders
Whether it will weep or thunder,
What we wear seems outnumbered,
Cotton caught out in the rain.

The coat now hangs forgotten,
Left to rot with wet socks,
Winter frocks and all things sodden.
The ghosts of colder days
Locked up and tucked away,
Moth eaten and decayed.
Waiting for the weather,
Wondering if whether
We will ever be worn again.

i once came across a bottle of thoughts.
opening it, not knowing what it lies,
only to realize it's yours.

both happiness and despair can be read,
warmth and isolation can be felt.
every thought was accompanied by a tone,
but one melody after another,
it felt a lot more melancholic
than i expected.

there was a sense of longing,
a somewhat cry for help.

and for a little while,
you made me forget loneliness exists.
so as a sign of gratitude,
i'll empty out my happiness,
and put them in the bottle,
—for you.

Black umbrellas crowd and cover
crying family and broken lovers
they gather to mourn their dearly departed
they gather to finish what merely was started

"He was brave and he knew how to care"
"He listened to me, he was always there"
a gap between life and love and death
has stolen a bit of everyone's breath

Don't cry for him, he's doing well
everyone knows he is not in hell
But still the heartsick mourners cry
"Why God Why was it him and not I?"

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
It’s easier knowing he won’t know my grim
Starvation is not a polite conversation
Damnation is not but a plight confirmation

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
Let my lip quiver as I try to be prim.
My eyelash vaporizes tears into smoke.
My lipstick a match for fires to stoke.

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
Let his questions fill him up to the brim.
He would laugh if I told him cause of my pain
I want a connection free of disdain

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
Not that I don’t think he’d handle the dim.
I just think it’s better to separate it all
After all, he’s the one who caused me to fall

So yes... I’d rather remain a tortured
Yet contained
Beautiful enigma