When she leaves
she will take every bit of herself
stuff it inside of her suit case and leave the front door open
all that you will be left with is a faint essence her,
the wrinkles and the weakest scent she left on your pillow.

when she leaves
she will leave nothing but strands of her hair on the floor
like a trail of bread crumbs
it reminds you that it is finished
that it’s done.

Tho she is gone and took everything with her
you will remember her.

The hoodie that you lent her will ask you where she went

The blankets that used to keep the fire that was once
you and her, will ask you why it has suddenly turned cold.

The cup she used to drink her coffee from in the morning
will have traces of her lips,
it keeps it safe, as a reminder
that all good things come to an end.

Sometimes I get sad
like REALLY sad

Actually not just sometimes but all the time

my chest would feel like an empty grave
screaming for it’s tenant.

The gaping hole that longs for someone to cradle into the night
A lover longing for it’s beloved.

I would have thoughts of the things I have lost
like a tree wondering where it’s leaves have gone in the fall.

I have memories and feelings that I have flung to the back of my head
like ***** laundry that just waits for me to deal with it.
I know one day I will have to pick them up and shove them into the washing machine
but here I am just ignoring it.
I am running out of clean clothes to wear
and have a mountain of ***** clothes to face

I have sorrows that I have coated in caramel
like candied apples
thinking that they’d be sweet but they still taste so bitter.

My heart was burning house filled with people dancing in it
The people have grown tired have left
and the firemen have arrived.

Now it nothing but a soggy dance floor with a shattered disco ball.
A sun that has exploded and have become a super nova
reminiscing what it once was and mourning what it will never be.

I hope day I won’t feel as much sad
that one day I will have enough motivation to face that mountain of ***** clothes.
I hope that one day I will be brave enough to be happy.
But till then I hope y’all keep me company.

Cause sometimes, most of the time
One of the main reasons I sad is because
I am lonely.

Some died in the Spring;
and some by the river, deep
in Winter beneath a bridge.
Some died alone by a tree
behind a repossessed house;
and some with their cats
at home, quiet as a mouse.
Some died reading bills
that come in the mail;
and some reading the part
number, reaching for a fan
belt hanging on a nail.
Some died with a flyswatter
in hand, toilet paper in a screen
door, dead flies on the floor;
and some like heat lightning,
fast as a sick baby’s breath.
Some died without a warm, caring
woman’s hand on a forehead;
and some sharing a last cigarette.
She, my old lover who loved danger,
died on the side of the road
in the arms of a stranger.

I banged my head onto the wall until it got splattered to a thousand pieces of colourful mosaic;
******* all the gloom, wet and sticky, on which they lay and grew prosaic.

Somethings like flowers, like coloured rain drops fell on my hands;
Through which they easily pervaded.

Flowing up, through the vessels, to the brain;
Overflowing and leaking from the wrinkles and filling up the skull,through the ears out they drain.                        

Creating infinite abstract blooms, which try escaping;
Out, again into the gloom, of the head that is dehiscing.

Those invisible blossoms spread across the room like mildew;
Soon creating a world of their own, ugly and new.