The day she realizes you were the one,
You shouldn't be there.
You shouldn't be
You shall be gone in the wind.
You shall touch the sun, for it will caress you and eat you write there
It will not mold your soul into a hideous one
The way she did.
The way she forged you to be a frivolous man
And she still walks as a cynical
All your love was compassion, content and rhythm
All that left is a faded spectrum of a prism.
The day she realizes you were the one.
You shouldn't be there.
You shouldn't be.
Let her sink, drown in the melancholy you suffered
Let the agony engulf her
And let her realize what she committed was  more than a carnage or a crime.
To experience the pain you felt
day to day through her lifetime.

Smiling in my silent screaming pain,
It's like pushing the wall of hope in vain,
Then my heart aches to the bone,
Freezing me in the room to be alone.

Streetlights hum a lullaby
to neon dreams.
Cracked pavement blooms
with graffiti roses.

My heart, a tangled vine,
unfurling in the dark.
Too many words unsaid,
a choked-back symphony.

Phone screen glows,
a cold comfort.
Another night adrift
in the digital sea.

But somewhere, a connection flickers.
A shared breath,
a whispered "me too."

Maybe tomorrow,
the static will clear.
Maybe tomorrow,
we'll find our bloom.

i'm still running, running fast;
i'm running fast... i'm running fast -
this was never meant to last!

Clipping my poems
so that they look cute
on instagram
so that they huddle
like chickens bound in a
butcher’s lorry
making way for pictures
feet-  in –a tangle,
like snipping a plant
for Bonsai
you think it’s the branches that you prune
but it’s really the roots that you
mangle.