"the locks
click click clicked
smiles here
kisses there
strangers waddled
click
this ones for us,
the metal collides
starlight hidden within it I'm sure
the promise of a lifetime
and click
click clicked
"I love you,
forgive me"
click click clicked
"Goodbye"
click
the starlight bursts in fragments of pain, falling into a river of broken promises,
click click,
clicked."

poetry
my only soulmate
ive turned to her
with
pain, happiness, lies, truth
she has given birth to a cleansed version of me
every time i came
crying to her
and wrote her into my wretched soul
hello, poetry
i know this,
that
unlike him
you will never say,
goodbye.

Maybe this heartbreak should turn into lines of miserabley beautiful poetry,
but
no
i want you to read these words and see the 7 months we spent
squeezed between each s p a c e

i want someone to read this right now, and feel pain, utter, pure, agonising pain, to cry to the floor until they go numb.

I dont want beautifully woven miserable lines of poetry.
I want pain. I have pain. I am pain.

theres the wild thought of this ending

and here i am,
seeing myself grieving the death of us

we are a person i have learnt to love
the friend who grows on you with time

Now, if she dies
Her love will hang over me like a heavy cloud filled with rain

Eventually it will shower memories over me
That will fall from my eyes as tears

The salt will caress my lips
And itll sting like your kiss on a snowy night

it will touch the tip of my chin
Roll down my neck

like your embrace
I will feel everything

all whilst
feeling nothing at all

again and again
and as it rains over my eyes

again

Listen to me
I am not writing to be read
I am writing to cleanse you of me

and the dirt
has shaped into letters as ink all over these pages
our love has its own mind..

Let it write
let it scribble what i could not say
again

you did not love to be left
and i do not write to be read

Always choosing,
The fact that you love me.

Harsh words sound like,
Sweet symphonies;

Insults are merely,
Compliments:
In a language i am still learning.

The foriegness of being loved,
Is what keeps me here with you.
Realization has struck, but my body refuses to move.
Oh, what have i done?

its so much more heroic to say, i saved myself. but the truth is,
oh yes the toxic truth,
here it comes,
steady your morals!
he saved me, i was burnt to a crisp..
and he took my ashes and smeared them over his heart.

Now i can feel the life in me drumming its way through my blood once again.
I wish i could say i stood on my own two feet, but i have not
i am proud of him, for saving me.
If not me,
it will be
he,
why should i be ashamed of that?

Of course, it would have been heroic if i had done it,
but i was never one to be
'the hero'
anyways.