Sometimes I can’t help but wonder
If you ever still think about me
If I ever cross your mind at all
And if you’ve ever once felt guilty

Because I still think about you
Much more often than I desire
And every single time I do
It’s like my brain’s been set on fire

I think about the person I once was
Hopeful, jubilant, and carefree
Every day was an exciting adventure
And my whole life was ahead of me

But you took all that happiness away
With your words as sharp as knives
Its amazing, through so much mental abuse
How the body still survives

Because you caused so much damage
That it has lasted all this time
And though the scars were never visible
What you did should be a crime

Even though I left you years ago
Your words live on within me
It makes me feel like I am trapped
And from this pain, I can never flee

They say “Forgiveness doesn’t make you weak”
And that “Its what can finally set you free”
But I could never find it in me to forgive you
Because you destroyed all the good I had in me

Dragging my knuckles* on the sidewalk
      I find myself hoping for a *spark
     that would confirm my mechanical makeup
        Titanium and servos buried mere inches beneath faux flesh
        Scraping concrete

         *Friction, it would seem,
           is the only force powerful enough to reveal me to myself

I have travelled from the lands
Of an unknown master that used to be you.
To a distant destiny, a residue
Of silent tears I shed past midnight
For the absence of you.
My throat clogged with screams.
My lips apart for expected moans
And eyes tight shut!
Crying over the absence of you.
The Absence of you
In a world so empty of light
And full of must-dos
Spinning in my head
Lies an imperfect dream
Of holding your hand
In the morning dew.
Tina RSH ©
14.04. 17

I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)

She looks in the mirror
At the age on her face
"I wonder what he thinks
of me this way?"

She considers her weight
and the pores on her skin
She thinks out loud
"I don't deserve him."

She picks apart
the woman he loves
Separating her worth
from all that she does
              
He looks in her eyes
and caresses her face
He sees it glowing with love
and full of grace

 The lines on her face
  he views with pride
  Recounting the victories
  each time they've been tried

The weight that she carries
 is that of a mom
 Nothing's too heavy
 She just marches on

These bodies will perish
 and mirrors offer no truth
True love abides
 beyond the corridors of youth

  No, she doesn't deserve me
  Perhaps God can see
  Conceivably, one day
  I'll be as worthy as she

I've memorized the look of your back
As you held my hand, moving forward with life
I've memorized the look of your back
Letting go and leaving me, moving forward with your life

The rush
The energy
The spark
It's flowing through me
Making me shiver
Feeling like I should turn around
But instead
I press my lips harder to hers
My hand
Behind her head
I strike through her hair
As only the stars as our witness
That for one moment
Our heart beat
Syncs
And we are one

I opened my eyes
I could feel the rush going through my body
The energy made me feel burned
Burned by love
Everything was here
Except her
All I could find that was left
Was one white feather

I returned to my bed
As I layed my head down
To hide my tears
Alone I cry
With one feather
Close to my heart

I'm waiting