Deep down I know this never works-

sometimes we need to to get a real good shot out into the void

before we gain control of what appears to have killed you a thousand times

we know that all these can hurt you and damage you permanently but

it doesn't stop you, you don’t stop you

and we begin to live like these stubborn creatures called humans

with a heart controlled by the mind or the other way around

we continue to feel even we feel bad things

we prefer that than nothing.

even you know you might not carry it, or handle it this time

you still hold on

to the one thing that made you feel alive once in your miserable life

deep down we both know i would be the one hurting

deep down we both know we would never work out

deep down we both know it was only i who felt in love

who fell in love

they tell me to unlove you,
but how, and when, and why?
for i know
love is love,
and love is not pain.

do i give up,
after all the stars I jumped over
and all the flowers
I cut the thorns off?

or do i stay
even the world says no
and my body says so?
When all my heart
and all my soul

still locked and chained
unto your soul?

*{j.j}

16-word-story: you let my words crash onto your shore but you refuse to call me the ocean

I lie awake not
thinking of you,
but remembering
us.

You were the slow death
I was wishing for,
like this stick
the third, the forth
you are ever more

the same ****** thing.

I inhale you in,
as I do,
I'm slowly killing you
and you are slowly
eating me.

I burn you and you burn me
more than you intended be.

at this glorious point,
we are mutual.

at last, we are now.

sometimes it scares me
that I have been too strong
that no one ever sees that it rains
on me even the sun
is striking at the sky.

the fear grows as
the years pass and no one dares
to know the real side of me
to transcend all my flaws
and to accept me
like a lost child.

and I continue to weep
for all the time that I am alone,
in this fight called life.
And soon, I know I am near the end
where I lost,
and I am gone.

what would be the last thing
you hear, you smell, you see?
you would probably not notice.
is it too cold? or a bit warm? or too hot?
or the window less open than yesterday?
will you see the mess of your tiny room
occupied by forgotten tasks or hobbies,
the 1000-piece puzzle left in the box,
remember that? trying to solve everything
on the floor, room not enough space,  no?
you would probably not notice
the door locked, maybe unlocked, would it matter?
phone uncharged, again, would it matter?
you might smell a familiarity in the air
of course, you're inside your room; you've been here
you lied here, again and again -
above everything you own, would you remember
the last thing, will it matter
when you're on the last turn, on your last blink-
would your remember the last thing?
you would probably not notice.
I would probably not.