there are times when
all you can feel is nothing
no rhyme or reason
no rhythm
no melody

not a single note in sight
no colour to be heard
no breeze to savour
although the aftertaste
is bittersweet

so you try them on
feeling after feeling
discarded on the floor
in a pile of ***** laundry
the broken records

and then they spin
out of control
there's no order
and no queue
the tapes won't rewind

the sink is still broken
your words still sting
the jukebox remains silent
empty.

I thought you'd understand...
I guess it was all in my head
Like a song on rewind
going over the same verse
over and over again...

The boy you loved drowned

Drowns every day
But he hasn’t come back
(He always does)
Maybe won’t
The icy shoreline whispers
“And if he doesn’t?”

He will
He has too

You don’t want to think about it

It whispers a lot to you
In the quiet moments like this
Before he comes back
Like
“What’s the point?”
(You say that this is the only way you’ll fix him)
“And what about yourself?”
(You say that you’re not the one drowning)
“You’re choking on paint again”
It says
And

You are
Dripping down your lips, cold like blood isn’t, not the right shade
Too chalky
Hardening in your lungs, but you missed a spot
So you drink another coat down

It stops talking
And the boy you love washes up on the shoreline
So you wring the blood of his lungs
Set a fire in his heart

And try again

There’s these nights when I go on a tour back to my past.
Taking stroll on all the Shouldn’t have, Could haves.
But isn’t that all what makes us more human?
Mistakes and regrets?
If we no longer had those, we would be too perfect to be called as Humans.