There's a hollow in my heart
That no rain
Nor amount of tears
Can ever fill
And I couldn't figure why
The lump on my throat
Heavy eyelids
Blank stares
Empty feelings
Dry eyelids
Even exist
As I stare to the rain
I always wish
I would also have the courage
To just go on and pour
Every drop
That my heart wants to let out
And ask the gods
To catch them
And give me signs
That the credits will arrive soon
And as i curl myself
I always wish
That someone would save
This little wrecked soul
From something which
She couldn't even recognize

I felt,
My lungs,
Collapse,
My heart,
Stopped,
And all you did,
Was look,
At me,
With blank eyes,
And no thought.

Bodies belong
in the cold, cold ground
Bodies belong
in the heat of flame
Bodies belong
wrapped with me

Tight, and pressing
recent death to flesh.

rationing myself out
after giving you my everything
to place yourself in the hands of someone
knowing they can ruin you
is the ultimate gesture of trust
and when neglected and unwanted
the plunge of death
when your heart finally gets handed back to you
broken
beating irregularly
scared to even flutter again

how could you be so sweet
and leave me so bitter
now it makes sense
because salt looks a lot like sugar

She was like art a foundation of happiness with a dash of crazy fulling the creativity of her mind and soul. A product of pure genius she can become any form she creates becoming a library of masterpieces giving the liberty to show the world who she truly is. A masterpiece of a woman disguised as a blank canvas

i saw her fiddling with her ring in an effort to dodge my eyes and avoid conversation. our parents discussed their philosophies for life and plans for us.

she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and only looked up at me
when i was speaking to answer her father's questions.
she laughed at all my jokes,
she watched me drink my orange juice when my eyes were averted.

"that's a lot of pressure," she says in the kitchen when her mother tells her to help prepare lunch. i want to get up to help her. i have no appetite. i just want to hear her voice more than one sentence response at a time.

i'm sitting in the living room, legs crossed, eyebrows raised.
she's fiddling with the same ring on her finger, and i think to myself
as i watch her, that i want to someday,
place a very specific ring
on a very specific fingers of hers
someday

proud parent of a closeted gay kid

my honour student has clinical depression

crybaby on board

if you can read this, this is the closest thing to intimacy i have experienced in weeks

the voting system is a fraud. i think we should reconsider the infrastructure of the american government before endorsing a candidate via the back of our vehicles

how's my driving? validate me please i'm so sad