I wish it was easy to forget
Some part of you
You loved so dearly
Burnt away to ashes
Infront of your eyes
With your own soul, giving away

I wish it was easy, not to cry
And cry real hard
When your dreams beneath your feet
Make a lowly noise
And you don't look, you don't stop
You just walk away

I wish it was easy to pretend
You didn't know, you didn't realise
It didn't hurt
When all that was you
You gave away
To an unknown stranger
Who came your way

I wish it was easy to say, 'I love you'
Just when you wanted to say
I wish the rain could wash away
All the traces, they say, will stay

I wish I could say..
I wish I could stay.

I used to look at him, the way I looked at the moon
In trance, and in admiration,
a mere thought of him was intoxicating.

To savor this remaining love left in me;
I wished to be caught in this dream forever,
but reality was too cruel.

When I awoke, I felt nothing.
It has been months since,
I have not caught a single glimpse of him.
The truth was, it was fading.

Yet I tried my hardest to keep it with me.
I held our love in my hands
like a pile of sand, slowly,
watching it slip out of my grasp.

was he loving
was he kind
did he always speak his mind

was he thoughtful
was he warm
did he listen, and conform

was he faithful
was he loyal
did he tinker, did he toil

was he patient
was he tough
did he dream, big enough

was he funny
was he wise
did he brim with dull surprise

was he humble
was he vowed
did he always make you proud

was it sudden
was it slow
was there nothing left untold

was he ready
was it time
was forgiveness left behind

she was not fragile like a snowflake.
she was fragile like a bomb.
and i didn't know which was scarier-
                                                        ­  her explosion or her calm.

"I can see my door, my bed, my window, my chair, and my table.

"I can feel my spine against the wall, my feet against the floor, my jaw tightly shut, and my fingernails buried in my arms.

"I can hear the wind coming in from the open window, my heartbeat rapidly thumping, and that familiar voice in my head, shouting once again.

"I can smell the dampness of the ground outside as the breeze carries it to my room, and the sickly sweet odor from the soap used on my hands.

"I can ******* blood spilling from the bite in my lip; my last harsh reminder that
        I
        am      
        still
        alive.