Poetry is like gusts of fresh air
Harbinger of the soul’s catharsis
Flowing emotions through the pen
Concealed pain written across the pages
Healing the pain which was long buried

I want to write a
beautiful poem
to tell you
I'm going to
**** myself.

But there are
No words
beautiful enough
to describe to you
the way
I'm about to die.

Hurt
Pain
It's all you feel
All alone
No one can heal
You fight and fight
But lose the battle
Feeling lonely
Like no one cares
Even though
You're surrounded by all who cares
But they don't know
About the battle inside
The battle you lost
Now everything's died

I am in love with you in the way that
you are my insomnia at 4 in the morning,
the one keeping me awake because my
body doesn't remember how to fall asleep without
yours quietly curled around it,
and my brain doesn't understand
why I irrevocably hate you,
or how I can hate and love one person
so much it makes my stomach hurt,
every moment I'm not with you I think
that the distance might **** me
because the sleepless nights and empty beds
breeding incomprehensible hatred
are just because I am
so
*******
in love with you.

You are life and love and more.

You are earth and fire and more.

You are the sky above the sea below and more.

You are what encompasses life
What gives direction
What holds hope
What nurtures happiness
What feeds passion
And more.

You are to me
What I am to you
In my dreams.