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“Why are you alive”
“You don’t deserve this”
“They would be better off without you”
“Leave and don’t come back”
“Push everyone away”
 Oct 2019 Benyamin Bensalah
LN
She held onto the cigarette
quivering hands and ****** veins
it lit up and scorched the leaves
infiltrating in her tensed lungs.
It reminded her of him.

Breathing in the grey smoke,
she suffocated from
the air that they weren't sharing.

Hugging the cigarette,
with his shapely lips
she knew that any attempt
of kissing him
would **** her
but yet she longed to die
at his touch.
- she loved him so much-
A poet in love
Is a match soaked
In gasoline.

-r0
follow my writing!

it will kick you in the diaphragm.
 Oct 2019 Benyamin Bensalah
LN
The cigarette or the pen,
which will be more effective?
- im still trying to figure out the answer-
I liked that poem
before it was trending.
Just a little humor to add to my seriousness!
 Oct 2019 Benyamin Bensalah
LN
Silly, silly me!
Trusting people,
Loving them,
What a fool.
Silly me.
 Oct 2019 Benyamin Bensalah
LN
They find better people,
and I become distant and forgotten.
People will replace you, and you will feel bitter for a longggg time.
 Oct 2019 Benyamin Bensalah
LN
I hear the cries emanating from your words
Every letter of every sentence is a story
that only your broken heart can tell.

The longing for peace inside
brings chaos within your cracked bones
I hope that honey starts to drip
out of your scars instead of blood.

The thoughts spinning in your mind
now resemble the whorls in outer space
galaxies of decisions to take
follow the path of stars that lie in your heart.

I know how hard it is to open your eyes
face the world
and live behind your insecurities
let your skin jump from excitement
not from fear that causes constriction of yourself.

You haven't failed yourself
when you chose silence over speech
these pens have screamed louder than anything
one day they will hurt those who wounded you
so that the guilt inside
will keep them awake night after night,
I will continue to pray for you.

Soft heart and lips,
skin like pillows
chest a haven for whoever
is privileged enough
to find comfort in it
don't let the harsh days
blister the frame
that holds you, the artwork, together.

Allow these poems to rebuild you
so that you realize that homes out of people
burn faster than gasoline on fire
and that the paradise you crafted
out of your bathroom floor
corners of busy rooms
tears on scratched paper
and wrinkles on your tired forehead
is the one that will revive you forever.

Stay strong.
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