It brews in my heart ,
It brews in the rain ,
It brews when you call my name ,

It brews all at once ,
With no reflection or pace ,
It brews when you leave no more space ,

It brews in my brain ,
It brews all the same ,
Whether you're near or far ,
It's something I cannot tame .

I wrote a poem about you , at 8am .
About friendship and how we could last till at least 10am .
But by the time 4:45pm rolls around ,
You’ll be beyond reach .
Something I never thought possible for us .

At 8am , I vowed that I loved you .
At midnight I still will ,
And at 3am when the pain comes and I fear my past mistakes ,
You’ll be writing poetry about her , to be read when she wakes up at 7am .

Sunsets are breathtaking
They paint the sky
With pretty flames
Its a beautiful sight

But behind you,
Is the world's shadow
Dark, dull, a sooty blue
The part that goes unnoticed

you changed this year ,
two days in and I felt the distance ,
you smiled at the others ,
I could already feel the conversations fading ,
follow the leader you said ,
I wanted to go along .

the levels of feeling I have are still awakening themselves ,
organising them ,
attaching them to a person ,
as you changed I felt the feelings fleet ,
the comfort , the jokes , you .

You were fleeting and it's time for me to move on .

Setting yourself up to write a poem is like preparing yourself for heartbreak ,
Reliving pain ,
A love that you never really had , lost .
It burns as you type ,
As you find an anger you didn't know you were harbouring ,
It burns with such ferocity that it might as well still be happening,
The longing , the sadness , the desire ,
Wait for you in each saved memoir .
Like thunder waiting to crash .

This has been on my mind all day ,
I can't get it to go away ,
The intended sentiment ,
Was not received , my brain was sent into overdrive .
******* for not telling me things ,
******* for not understanding ,
******* for not listening when I needed you to ,
******* for complaining ,
And ****                                                                                              you
                                                                                                      for saying
                                                                                                             you'd
                                                                                       ' try to remember '

you write songs about summer like you're afraid that it'll end .
your winter songs hurt me also .