We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.

burn her cigarettes,
burn her skin
undress her,
commit a sin

She'll growl
but you'll too,
A day would come:
much ado

she bled
she collided
she collapsed

still by your side,
she'll smile.
Joyful;Joyless
she'll smile

realisation will
strike you one day,
what a beautiful
soul you lost that day

she'll depart but you'll learn,
how to live life and discern.

The bright of the burning sun
shoving itself perpendicularly on her wheat coloured complexion;
with the pitch black spot that she has right upon her cheek, the colour glimmered like fresh brass.
Jasmine new garnered, sailed at the waves of her black curls.
The sun so wild on her way made perfect amalgamation of colours in her long wavy hair, black and copper and brown and tin, every shade mixed with the other.
Her deep brown eyes which never seemed so brown, now seemed an example of exquisite beauty, the pupil shimmering against the shine of the sun, it looked amazing.
Her small pendulous lips, consisting the colour of dark pink and the tint of smoky black mixed with reddish wine at the edges, flamed up in the sun.
Her incomplete eyebrows, her messy eyelashes...
oh. how wonderful she looked. ✨

Burning cigarettes;

growling souls,
blackened body
mortal cage
and an immortal hobby


Bleeding philosophy;

drenched eyelids,
weeping lips
apparent affection
and a soothing kiss


Colliding bodies;

laying o'er,
fidgeting in the dark
coursed carbon
to a hungry, relentless spark


Collapsing ribcage;

blinding pain,
empty fie
gradual decree
paradise.