No
He didn't make any promises
He didn't sell me a dream
But the way in which he spoke
Showed me things I've never seen
Between the lines
I heard a song
Which makes me want to move to the rhythm of his symphony
Eyes closed
I feel like an imposter
Stealing each note
As it flows like water
My soul awakens
Like a memory is calling
My heart wants to kneel
To dwell
To lose itself
In the spirit of fantasy

Between my bones there are shadows
That haunt the make of my soul
Everytime I look at a reflection
And see a smile
I wonder when it will leave
When it will say **** this
And realise staying is not worth the burden
That inside me there is a storm
Which cannot be chased or caught
It's a storm you should run away from

She deliberately hid her heart
Left pieces of it in different places
At the peak of mountains
At the bottom of a cliff
On the last page
Of the last book in the series
Entangled in the silence
Of the blank spaces of a poem
Where most were too weak to make it

The sky remembers Palestine
It remembers the bread and cheese
The morning call to prayer
The orchards of olive trees
The Earth remembers
Deep roots older than the sea
Wounds that taste like lovers
Litter the soil
The wind remembers
Free Palestine
The song carries over checkpoints
And reminds the flowers
Where they come from

Perhaps it would have been better to let go whilst we were still whole
To lose something beautiful and cherished
Than to break piece my piece
And watch what we had
Turn sour in our hands

Now I'm just another defeated lover
Watching the world move on

without us

I loved you more than I hated myself

I have been writing out my love story for a long time
Thinking my heart was an original flame
The first of its kind to burn
The first to extinguish so terribly
I've wanted to differentiate myself
To carve out my happiness
And write my name all over it
The cult of the individual is alive
And I want to be the protagonist
I want an entire novel
A series
And I want it all to matter