First you will cry.
You will feel every emotion that you've ever felt being washed down the drain
and you will taste the sour, bittersweet heaviness of sobbing at 4:38 AM on your lips
and you will scream so quietly it will be a whisper to others but a clap of thunder inside you
and your lungs will stop working
and your ribs will feel as if they were collapsing
and you will not be able to walk the next day because you will feel as heavy as a truck full of rocks.
Next you will be silent.
You won't speak,
you won't nod your head,
you won't smile,
you won't write,
you won't move.
You will suddenly be able to feel your bones and stomach caving inwards inside of you
and your skeleton will become so thick with the secret carvings in your skin that it will become a labyrinth that even you will not dare to explore
and the world will continue to spin, everything will go on,
and you will just stay numb to keep yourself from falling apart.
Then you will hate them.
You will curse every single person that pushed you to talk to them,
you will rant about how terrible they are
and how fucked up your love in the first place
and that it hadn't meant anything
and you will say they were just another burning star in the sky,
you will say that their light has started to fade,
you will say they never cared about anything,
you will say that it didn't matter,
and you will yell until your voice is raw and your throat is hurting
and you will go to bed silently wishing that the tears on your cheeks would stop pouring
and you will feel your inner self loathing at the core of chest for being so stupid, for caring in the first place, for being pathetic enough to keep all their things.
Then they will call.
They will make you question every single thought you've ever had,
every damn moral that you had created for yourself
and they will tear down your walls with an ax made out of love and nostalgia
and they will say that leaving was a mistake
and they will make you remember memories you had blocked out.
The old conversations have been deleted, all the photos no longer on your phone.
You will still cry at night sometimes
but your heart will become a boat sailing on rocky waters
but you will be okay.
The world will finally come to you on a cold Tuesday morning.
You will go home
and they will not call you
and you will not care.
This means that your lungs still work
and your ribs are in the right place
and you will go to sleep that night with the taste of happiness on the tip of your tongue.
In that moment
you will feel better than you have in months
and you will realize that you are okay,
your boat will not sink,
the storm is over,
the aftermath has passed
and you will be okay.
I understand those that must believe
and those that must condemn.
Afterall, without idealized hope,
Where is your light in this world of darkness?
What is your everything when you have nothing?
What is wrong when all you know is right?
The hatred, the pain and the anger you feel
Where would it all go if not here?
- the persecutor and the persecuted
I still remember the first time I heard your voice.
16 years ago you blew away.
Your words spoke to me.
One of my dearest memories..
I'll never forget it.
I fell in love with your words.
Every day you kept me going, kept me alive.
When I lost hope you were there.
And now you're gone.
No more words. Only grief.
Another star burned out.
A piece of me died with you..
Now you're frozen in time.
I want to tell you like you, how my heart beats for you.
How it skips a beat everytime I see you.
But I won't.
Afraid I might lose you.
I know you like me too.
How you smile when you see me.
The hugs that are a little too long.
The connection we have is obvious.
Together we shine.
Yet we do nothing.
I'll keep loving you in secret.
Hoping one day we'll end up together.
Walking with you was one of the best,
It gives me joy among the rest.
Looking at you makes my heart stop,
Like I was arrested by a cop.
I want the world to see,
What you really mean to me.
For every smile you give,
It gives me strength to hold on.
For every love you contribute,
It gives blissfulness in me.
But for every baneful words you give,
The more I become effete.
What if the time come and you will be gone,
Will I bee seeing myself happy again?
We don't know the flow of the weather,
But I know someday we can walk again together.