If I must sink
Let it be
I don’t care
About decency

If I can’t have you
No one shall
I have no confidence
And no morale

My heart is cracking
My head aches
Don’t care about consequences
**** the stakes

If I must sink
Let it be
I’ve long accepted
There’s no saving me

Won’t live without you
Won’t carry on
By the time you read this
I’ll be long gone

Not by death
But I’ll lose my mind
You know what they say
Love makes you blind

Can I die from a broken heart?
If I smile through the agony
Will it tear me apart?
Or will I somehow be ok?

If I drag myself out of bed
Clear the poisonous thoughts
Out of my fragile head
Will I somehow be ok?

Can I die from a broken heart?
Should I lay here and never leave
Or rise and focus on a fresh start
Tell me which do I choose?

When all is said and done
And I chose the latter of the two
Would that mean that he has succeeded?
In truly breaking me

Harsh Cold Winter

It’s a harsh cold winter
You’re gone and I’m so bitter
I sat front-row seat
As I watched our love wither

Heart gouged by the splinters
You’ve silenced your ringer
And my feelings for you
Oh, they still linger…

It’s a harsh cold winter
Choked sobs and silent whimpers
Sparks of love burned out
Leaving ashes and cinder

Sleepless nights
Bottles of whiskey
Skipped meals
My love, do you miss me?

It’s a harsh cold winter
I’ve always been an overthinker
Should I move on? Or reach out?
letting my healing progress hinder

Week old sheets that smell of you
Tears as wide as the ocean
People come and go
But all I ever wanted was your devotion

I remember praying to you, and you did not answer.  
I was told God listened to His children,  
But you sure didn't listen to me.  
I was told to fast so my prayers could be answered quickly,  
I starved myself from food, fed only on prayer and faith for days,  
Hoping for some good but only ended in the hospital.  
You didn't answer.  

My clothes were drenched in tears,  
I felt myself dehydrated.  
I prayed from dusk till dawn,  
But still no answer.  

That pain I felt isn't there anymore.  
Not because things are finally looking up,  
It's because I'm losing faith.  
I feel numb to all the pain.  
You weren't there when I needed you the most.  

All those people lied to me when they said you come in times of need.  
They said if God doesn't answer,  
It's because He knows one can handle it.  
But here I am thinking that my definition of "handle" and His aren't the same.  
Unless, if wishing to die, isolation, and sh is His definition,  
Then I guess I'm handling everything perfectly.

I am not without my sins
But neither are you
We both have scars
We both have caused harm
But I admit that I have slashed
While you say that you slipped
I defend you in front of peers
As you drag my name through the mud
I kneel before you asking for a truce
And you spit in my face

Wreathe of lies
Adorn my body with your flowers,
Your flowers of lies—warm and afresh.

Pin them hard,
Till my skin becomes rosy,
And cheeks a little lake,
For the flowers must not dry.

Pin them with needles,
Close to my chest,
Where my treasure lives—
Alone and alive.

What have I become,
But a wreath of your lies.
The flowers withered
And the sweetness lost forever.

Unpin the needles,
Tear the flowers,
I’d still be bleeding,
For I held onto your thorns,
Knowing you’re a rose.

Paint:
me in tar, dredged from your judas soul
Where you once stored my love:
a devotion-less hole

Truth:
A shame-bound train and you’re tied to its track
Hypocrisy:
A thrown boomerang always finds its way back

Pray:
with your queen in your false praise of god
Bury:
your guilt in her sanctimonious nod

“How loud must it scream
Before I will hear?”
Craft your hollow platitudes
Into your pious veneer

See,
I know

the putrid self-loathing
That screams from within
How loud must it scream
For you to accept your chagrin?

Here I was worrying about your soul,
While you destroyed my entire core;
I was waiting at the door,
But you made my entire body sore.

I gave you pieces I couldn’t afford,
Believed in things I could not ignore,
But your silence, it cut me to the core,
A thousand wounds, yet still, I swore.

I built you up from broken parts,
Gave you shelter, gave you heart,
But you tore apart what I had made,
Left me here in the cold, afraid.

I kept your name in every prayer,
Hoping you’d find your way to care,
But you, you vanished like the air,
And now I stand, unsure, aware.

Did you ever see the weight I bore?
The cracks beneath the things you swore?
Now I’m left with nothing more—
Just shadows knocking at my door.

For seven months I drank my tea at the window and allowed the sun to cast its rays over my resolution.
I gazed at the space between but never directly into my neighbours house
for I knew the indifference that awaited me in her window of enmity.
During the seventh month my love swelled and pooled at my fingertips, restless with those un-penned words of indignation,
And so I gazed into her window.
Bleeding from my freshest wound,
just rage unfurled into bitter poems,
reruns of us,
of when you offered the belly of my dignity to feed your enemies, revealed a vengeance owed to me,
not of retribution
but of justice.
During the eighth month I wrestled love and grief, rage and memory,
to save you,
to save you from the recklessness my pain threatened to uncage.
I allowed the waves of your betrayal to break over me and pull me back into the sea of childlike grace within myself.
I did not emerge cleansed, pure, or resolved.
Victorious over my animal lust for vengeance,
yet unsatiated in surrendering my desire to deliver you to the same gallows where you made a pariah of me.
And conflicted with answerless questions.
Is vengeance the natural harbinger of karma and therefore my gentleness; justice interrupted?
Is my enduring love my weakness or my courage?
.