Smell the rain and watch the sky
This is what i give you
Touch the skin and taste the lips
This is what i have given you
The sand is warm and so are you
Swirl in the water that lick the shores

I have no light to guide you
So make your way by strife
I have nothing else to give you
But an ending life

Never ask why daylight dies
Why the herds head for higher ground
Never ask why i thought you to lie
And to hurt the one you love
Never ask why the night is cold
And why the wind tears in your soul
Never ask why there must be an end

These are the days of struggling
These are the days when you breathe and dream
These are the days of never turning back
What lies behind you is only black
These are the wounds i bleed from
This mortal coil drains me so weak
These are the last words of wisdom
I'll ever speak

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own.

It happened rather fast,
A single moment passed.
A new transfer student,
Felt that he needed to be included.
He didn’t want to be alone,
So he found the nearest friend group,
And hoped they’d take him as their own.

He walked to the group,
Who were trapped in their coops,
Scrolling through their tombs,
Not having anything to say.
Fern cleared his throat,
His anxiety was flying high.
As he stuttered,
“H-h-hi-hi.”

The group was surprised, someone new had bothered,
To approach them,
Especially someone so nervous.
They pondered,
What his ulterior motive was,
As they looked him up and down.
Fern frowned.
Were they judging him?
His hands shook,
As sweat trickled to the ground.
Eventually, Jack got up,
Took his hand and shook it.
“I’m Jack!”
The moment,
That Jack wished he could take back.

Freshman year went on,
And nothing consequential changed.
Fern grew closer to the group,
As life kept turning the pages,
Of their stories,
Growing closer to the heartbreaking ending.

Sophomore year began,
And Jack noticed that things felt off,
Not oppressive,
But enough that he wanted it to stop.
Fern brought another friend along,
And Jack found himself sitting alone,
Fern’s friend just seemed more interesting,
Than Jack ever was.
Jack’s friends used to talk to him,
Then they didn’t.
Jack figured out right away,
That this was how it felt to be replaced.

So Jack went out of his way,
To avoid his “friends” every day.
If they didn’t care,
He wouldn’t let it tear down his sails.
It hurt,
But he knew he’d heal.
He’d leave them behind,
Clawing at his heels.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own,
And that was okay!

Lies are mercy, aren't they?
Little bandages over wounds too raw to touch,
soft words wrapped around a blade-
because what's a little blood between friends?

They call them shadows.
but don't they have weight?
Haven't they sat beside us at dinner tables,
held our hands at funerals.
kissed our foreheads goodnight?
Haven't they whispered in our ears-
"Shh. The truth would only ruin this."

People wear them like armor,
stitched with good intentions
because nothing says I care
like a well-tailored deception.
But armor rusts.
Tongues slip.
And no one likes the taste of old lies.

They lie because the world doesn't want the truth
Because the mirror would rather blur the cracks
than reflect the hollow-eyed thing staring back.
Because I'm fine
is easier than I haven't slept in days.
Because It's okay
is a free pass to avoid confrontation.
Because some truths burn.
and some people would rather drown in gasoline
than risk lighting the match.

Lies keep love alive, don't they?
One says, I'll never leave.
The other doesn't ask What if you do?
One says. I trust you.
They both pretend it's true.
Betrayals become misunderstandings.
Silence becomes space.
Absence becomes freedom.
Say it enough, and it sounds real.
Believe it enough, and maybe it doesn't hurt.

But lies don't stay small.
They grow ribs
Grow teeth.
Learn to walk on their own.

They slip from tongues like prayers-
practiced, automatic.
holy in their own way.
They turn love into a contract.
guilt into a leash,
truth into an inconvenience.
They say, You are safe.
They say. You are right.
They say. You had no choice.

Then-
a crack in the mask,
a break in the voice,
a silence too loud to ignore.

And suddenly, the truth isn't some mythical beast,
not a monster waiting under the bed.
If's just there, standing in the doorway.
waiting. Watching.
Tired of being the villain in
someone else's story.

Lies aren't mercy, are they?
Just wounds left open too long-
festering, rotting, waiting to be called by
their real name

These moving feet always stay hungry
For the steps on finding perfect dreams
Pestering about love again – it really bugs me.
How it usually goes for us, in this love story
Asking myself, “would you really tell me his story,”
Quietly knowing, “you two still share some history?”

Yes, your eyes are both the windows to your soul —
But their curtains are occasionally & forcefully closed
The story of every man, wanting to find that treasure,
Of their favourite girl's heart; marking it with an X,
And they all quietly hope, to closely hear her say,
"Hey, you're so much better than my ex.”
Asking myself, “what love of man, is surely king,”
Cause being that it's all ruled from a wicked heart –
It can take a week to fall in love, but it unfortunately
Takes a lot of us weeks to fully heal from a broken heart.

Love can become so foreign to someone,
Unfamiliar to the tastes of a good French kiss
"What's your love language," we first have to ask;
Body language can differ from what comes out of your lips.
As even a betrayer knows when to give the right kiss…

Love's sentinel faithfully watches
From his balcony in the sky;
He fixates his light on lovers each night ---
O, what joy when two hearts comply!

But tonight the moon agonizes
Upon hearing heart-wrenching cries,
And as his light spills across darkened hills,
Daunting fears cloud his searching eyes

North and south his silver rays scatter
In search of the mournful lovers;
Fearful and distressed he looks east, then west,
Then gasps at what he discovers

A woman laments love's deception
(Too grim even for mortal ears)
And not far away, a man kneels to pray,
Begging pardon for causing her tears

O, careless moon, were you neglectful?
He succumbed to another's charms!
Was he led astray while you looked away?
O please, guide him back to her arms

Though the pain of betrayal is brutal,
Forgiveness lends its healing power
To the one who strayed . . . . while the heart betrayed
Bears the anguish of Love's darkest hour

Oh bread crumbs;

The birds have eaten up my path
Their sky has swallowed up my past,
They love to quickly spit it all out

As I shared the deepest parts of myself
With people that held no trust, or love –
Now my past is all they speak about

Now that's foul.

Oh, duplicitous lover of mine—
who are you, lying beside me?

The father, whose pride rings from your mouth
like the bells of liberty?

The husband, whose arms once lifted my soul?


Or the traitor who razed his own kingdom—
a castle turned to rubble at your feet?

So cunning, you are-
the parasite at the bottom of the glass,
a shadow shifting in the room,
with poison on your tongue.

Do you love me today?
Or them?

How long will your eyes cling like cobwebs
to strangers who were never yours to seek?

How long before you feel
how cold our bed has grown?

My touch?

How long until you notice
I am not asleep—
just lying beside a memory.  

I’ve heard your denials,
your guilt already etched in stone.

Your hands hold me like a promise.
Yet,  your eyes betray me like a curse.

And still—
I feel the echoes of our late-night dances
stream down my face as I cry today.
Different tears.  

Same man.

I am the witness to your storm,
and still I reach for your warmth—
like a ghost returning
to the scene of its death.

I do not know the man who holds me.
But I remember the man I love.

So I lie still in this haunted bed,
wondering if I am mourning
you—
or myself.