my hands bled
small red crescent moons
etched deep into my palms
that drip onto my lap
when i watch
                 i    c a n ' t    s a y    i t
and i breathe
shakey
spelling out your name
across my skin
in goosebumps
but my blood goes cold
and boils too hard
bubbling into my temples
popping in my brain
a banging
a raging
anger
my vision goes red

and yet.

it had slipped
from my grasp
that warm toned memory
                        a   l o o s e   t h r e a d
                    t h a t    s n a p p e d
yet left its indentations on my mind
its fingerprints behind my eyes
i can still remember how bright the sun was that day
and the tilt of someone's lips towards the sky
someone i can't seem to recall
someone that doesn't ring a bell
but whose laugh still floats around in the air
i can't seem to
               remember.

It gave false hope and hidden nightmares within its rays
It gave only lies threw the clouds and left the moon with the sad aftertaste or the truth
The trees knew the truth yet they smiled back
The birds still sang their songs even when the sun didn't sing it back
When did the world prefer a lie?
When did the moon hold so much sadness even in its most peaceful times?
When did the sun deceive the dreamer?
It was when the clouds begged for warmth,
when they couldn't handle winters truth.

it's the ache in my chest
and the tingle in my palms
the ***** of tears at the corner of my eyes
that makes me think
makes me wonder
what it is to truly feel
what love is like
as young as i am
and as innocent as i seem
amidst the world
desensitised
and numb
i don't understand
and maybe that's okay for now
because from my own experience
from what my own fingertips feel
from what my eyes have touched
and from what my ears have solemnly listened
it is a kind of pain
we often yearn for.