I am a black dot on a piece of paper
a single mark within the infinite
you have already erased her
all that’s left is sin and dirt
this skin does hurt
the pain is real
it’s a slow boring
that’s reduced me to kneel
my words are boring
but I continue to write still
maybe I will find the answers
somewhere between the lines
if only I could have asked her
instead, we only drew knives
to cut away at each other’s flesh
to reveal the emptiness inside
now her surname is death
and I’ve run out of places to hide
so slip your ring upon my finger
let my breath taste like winter
for I am just a black dot
a single mark
what you forgot
left in the dark
a tired writer
she had all the strength
I am nothing like her
I can’t even repent
I know I was meant to learn
from all my mistakes
but all I do is burn
amidst all that is fake
I can’t change the world
I couldn’t even change her heart
just a stupid boy that loved a girl
now a black dot a single mark.

why do i crumble
fall into pieces of
oats and sugar
something beautiful
in a white bowl, but
a mess on the floor
when i wake up
in an empty house
why do i wither like
brown leaves
under brand new and
borrowed boots atop
autumn sidewalks
when i’m alone,
i’m alone,
i’m alone
it is not enough
to eat breakfast
however small
to wash my hair with
coconut milk
to not step out into
the busy street;
i freeze before the ice
touches me
i do not allow
the chance to warm
my own hands
i lie down, on
***** sheets,
and wait for someone
anyone
anything
to awaken me

are you the pieces put finely together,
or are you a togetherness, pulling apart?

and what lies in the in-between,
the borderlines, the crevices?

those things that bled
from your mind into hidden places

what did you lose in the battle of wits,
what did the darkness hide?

Walking by the railway trucks
Thinking to myself
Is it right to believe in right and wrong?
Is this where I belong?

The atmosphere is a bit nostalgic today
I surrender praise and worship song plays
Everything else just levels to the latitude

A moment to be savored

But my reality fought for its existence
As if it was being forgotten
The wind blows
and it all dawns
that the thorn still grows

Felt like a pinch into reality
a discarded memory crawling into my brain
these are the days that made me
Or sometimes broke me