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mint Dec 2017
there’s a gouging hole where my chest used to be
ever since the moment i met you
a tiny piece of me has crumbled and fallen to the floor
leaving trails of myself as i pass
and over the months as i have been chipped away at
my soul
has emptied

i’ve grown tired of the pain
i’ve grown tired of the wanting and the longing

i’ve rushed to pick up pieces of myself again but i found that they don’t fit

i am not the same anymore

we are not the same

nothing will be like it was
these months have sloshed like water, up and down and now the water is gone
a new tide has come in

and i don’t know how to fit here in these waters
what to expect from them

acceptance rolls in between my fingers
touching my skin and begging to be absorbed
this past month i have been playing with it in my hands, feeling its tacky sticky texture

it promises no returns, only a way to pick up my pieces again and fill in the gaps you left, with it’s presence

i lay on the ground
water laps at my body and pushes bits of me into the holes they once occupied

i lay

my hand is now covered in it, the acceptance

i lay in the slowness, the grey sounds of the water filling my ear and there is nothing i can do but wait

wait for the acceptance to over take my body
wait for myself to be whole again

i remember your face and i wonder how that’s ever possible

and yet here i am, being put back together and remedied

here i am


waiting for my impossibilities to soak into my skin and become possible

here i am
i dont know how to get over her but i will, its happening, i just have to wait
Ashna Alee Khan Jun 2017
There is a poem I have yet to write,
For how does one write what only the heartless can feel?
I speak with shards of my memory,
For I am simply a shell of what once was.
I love with my blood draining from my veins to write life, love in the empty white spaces.
I am incapable of extracting my soul from the gallows where it remains chained to my hast been.
But one can pretend to comprehend the foreign language that is my one and only fear.. love...
For love is tempting and even the empty long for impossibility.
I can say I love you in a emotionless and heartfelt tone.
For I love you in my own coldness, seeing hope is still resting on one side of your ruins, while mine was emptied long ago.
I need not feed your ears or your heart lies to speed you to recovery, but am content to give you the tiny morsels of me that remain so that your wounds May bare only scars in remembrance.
I unlike you bare no signs of redemption, so I freely give you what is still free of rot and withering so that you may live with me.
I am simply and only a shell with little crystals to give,
For love once passed through me walking away with my soul, and love is now far beyond the reach of my door.
Ottar Feb 2015
Colours.
The Arc is a contrast to
the stark, overcast sky.

There are,
two end and there
are two sides.

Meeting
means to
collide.

Box
emptied of vacation
memories, blossoms
of plastic, frozen faces.

Broad smiles, hid the
lies behind the lines
and teeth, bits of sand,
those once were hot,
Between the ugly toes,
grains now discarded,
But no more enjoyed, the
mind is blind to the litter.
                  what was toyed, with
blackmailed emotional *** of gold.

The Colour
has drained away,
rummaging in this, in the dark
is too damaging, with gritty fingers,
on delicate nerve tissue, softly,
please, mind the
Grey matter.

— The End —