Living in a world of Snapchat and Instagram,
yet our generations hardest hill to climb is communication.
Endless characters to use and send yet with no meaning at all.
Instant messaging with almost instant disatisfaction.

An A4 blank white sheet, a canvas for your expressions.
Joy, sadness, love and loss, all which can be painted with only one colour emotion.
Ink illuminating more than light on a phone ever could.

The beauty of letters with their poetic constructions.
From Heaneys letters of longing, to a sixteen year olds first love away from home.
Both understandably an act of strong passion and weakness to love
The choice of words hitting with a weight the writter and reader could only translate.

This is the sacrifice made by those who are oblivious to it.
The simplicity and satisfaction.
The lost joys,
of a simple letter

Crooked
shadows, lonely figures
yellowed pages, splotched ink
broken promises littering nostalgic
lanes down the river of green and grey.
Reduced to these pile of letters some drizzle later
dusty, wet, and so so bitter.

In the space of two hours i wrote

                        a suicide note,

                                         and a love letter.







I posted them the
                                                    love letter.

A tangent drawn over
Below looking for cover
Closely following through
Decide against going after
Elevating my view
Further towards the issue
Glued my eyes toward sad side
Happiness doesn't make my guestlist
It has been a while I've felt good
Jinxed my life with overthinking mind
Kind of never been ever kind
Letters and words, I cannot encompass

Much like my dreams that never came true
Not thinking about it doesn't make them go
Ongoing struggle keeping the feelings inside
Pushing it within, to not hinder my work
Quite unsuccessful attempts, and I see day becoming night
Rays turning dark in blink of time
Stars are no longer seen in the night sky
Turn the page over, how do I
Until almost I tear those pages out
Vanishing away is a thought lingering
What good I am currently exploring
Exploring the tweaks of my current life
You wouldn't want to share one with me
Zero is the number of chance, you'd like me.

(#14a)

autumn eve sun sinks
The lowest insect projects
long shadows
criminal fingers like yours
took lighter being from me

(#14b)

the reply

shade swells to dusk
a cloak for lovers 'crime'
give freely and take
balanced nature
listen to the night ferals

black lives matter so
black lies matter so
dive in deep waters to
die in deep waters to
be seven as the samurai
be seen as the samurai
your mind curved
your mind cured
starve and
stare and
carving your name in history make
caring your name in history make
the world: invert
the world: inert
an ideology to believe
an ideology to belie

The mist clouded my sight
The dress I wore was white
I was lost I could tell
So, I followed the **** of the tower bell
The wind swooshed past my face
It was a mystifying maze
I was cold
All I had was the warmth of
your love                          
My hair was damp
You switched on the table
lamp
The branches creaked
Under my feet.
At some distance the water cascaded
The trees in front of me faded
The insects were buzzing
The paper on your nightstand were rustling
The woods whispered
The birds no longer chirped
I am still looking for peace.
Our photo frame on the mantelpiece.
You burned it down
I tripped on the frozen ground.
I knew I was losing you
I could no longer feel you.
The scratches on my elbow and knees
The frost on the leaves.
I feel like I’ve heard and seen this before
I cannot take it anymore.
These sounds are noise to my ears.
All I see are my fears.
They screamed at me monstrously
I can’t handle this cacophony.

The fo(u)nder of fondness
lies in ^

From the moon,
comes a letter of reconciliation,
an apology carried with the tide.
Written in an ink infused with hope,

to be read on those restless nights.