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I have loved you
From the moment our eyes
Met across the crowded street
On that scorching summer day

And though summer
Soon came to a bitter end
I have loved you through
Every season ever since

And I guess I always will
I can count the
Freckles on your face
While your fingers can
Follow the pattern of the
Slashes on my back
I'm afraid you may take a while, though...
They say time heal all wounds
And though that may be true
For the majority of scenarios
It’s not an irrefutable fact

For our childhood scratches
May be a fleeting kind of pain
Yet there are some scars that life
Engraves deep within our soul

Like a bullet whose trajectory
Missed my heart by a few inches
But hit a far more damaging target
My very last bit of innocence

Now, when I look into the mirror
Every broken bone lost its meaning
And the echoes of who I once was
Are all that remains to be seen
This is a poem my friend Mariya wanted to have written, but couldn't do it 'cause she's too busy saving the world.
Now at the end of all things
As we're breathing sulfur and
Lead's pouring over our heads
I'm glad you're the one I'm
Sharing the trenches with
This is the first thing I'm able to write in almost a month. A little piece about my mental health struggles and how grateful I am to the ones that have my back right now.
My body is broken
But doesn't really matter
How badly beat up I get
My soul still wants
To pick a fight

I guess us fighters
Are just made like that
We never really know
When and how to quit
We're too **** tough
For our own good

We just want that fire
So we keep pushing
On and forward
Forward and on
A repost of a piece that I wrote last september, while trying to shake myself off a depressive episode... couldn't be more appropriate: I'm fighting really hard right now.
We cut one another
Down to the very flesh
While we miss each other
Deep inside our bones

Isn’t that ironic?
Why do we tend to hurt the ones we love (and vice versa)?
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