You make me bleed,
If only I learnt
how to paint you with it,
This would be worth it.

You make my heart ache,
If only I could turn this into art,
I would find a way
to keep you safe

Without endangering
my fragile beats.

You make me love you,
If only I could turn you into poetry,
And have people appreciate my love,
And not object,
I would.



But I can't.


So now my pen lays there,
The paper waits to be caressed,
The words remain lost in the echoes inside my head
Pleading you to come back.

But no amount of words I write
Will be louder than this worldly hate,
5+5 makes 10 so does 2+8

So why do they have to wrong us
To prove they are correct

I guess only a broken soul can hear
The sound a breaking heart makes,
You heard mine, for that I'm glad,
But you are gone now

The words now fall,
Only to get rusted and forgotten,

You made me hear
The silent lullaby the night sky sang to its lover earth
But now without you here,
It grows quieter every night.


Please, somewhere at some point
meet me again