There's no room left
No more room for all
this ******* trauma and pain
no more time for
taking shaky breathes
no more love for people who don't love me back.
No more
because feeling like I'm drowning
Every God ****** day of my life
isn't how I want to live
not anymore.

So I'm gonna step back
and assess this shitpile of a situation
and then leave it
and leave you
because I want to feel like I can breathe again
and you're just holding me under the water

Sitting here alone
in an empty, tranquil room
I've got nothing left to fear
than time itself colliding

I entered the phase
and went back in time
those teary-eyed souls
helpless and desperately calling

A heart who seeks revenge
being repainted from time to time
All the chaos it has encountered
tragedies, death, and sorrow

Although happiness fills in,
it overflows and bursts
An unfathomable hole
where the beast loves to creep

Eye to eye, we gazed
there, it struck me
This phantom I only met
by then took my awakening

Out of the blue, they came
their voices growing louder
serenity is fading
My solace, abruptly chopped.

More than ninety-eight days
Since you've been gone
I never was good with numbers
You knew that very well

There were times
When you called me stupid
It didn't bring me down
I knew better
Insults from you
Never came out as offensive anyway

There were times
We had conversations
So terrible I wanted to dissolve
In my cup of tea
Yeah like sugar
I didn't know about you though
It was hard to
But I remember our last as a couple
It was the worst of all
You cried for the first time
And I didn't
Yeah for the first time

There's a shadow
On my beige painted wall tonight
It belongs to no object
Quite funny
It's the shadow of your love
I think, I hope, I wish
More than ninety-eight days passed
Since you left and forgot

But I know how
You will never walk with a shadow again


F.Z.**N

There is a space in my body,
a room,
that serves no function.
It is empty.
Filled with broken things,
who's shapes I remember with fondness, angst,
and not at all.

All of the walls have holes punched out of them
or into them,
depending on the day.
Most times,
I am not sure where it is.
But I feel it screech as its pushed and pulled
on the worn out track
between my head and chest.

I will be waiting there for you
with matches.
You will come
bearing gasoline.

And it when it feels full
for the first time
I will set it ablaze.
Then we will sleep,
comfortable and warm,
close to our flames.

Her hands clinged around the pencil,
as if it were the last thing she'd touch.

Her head cleared in spite of the noise,
thinking only of the boy she loved.

As the noise began to rise,
her head began to grow.
And the gardens she used to plant,
rapidly began to glow

Imagination, such a scary place to hide,
in a room of introverts, secrets, and kids who want to die.

A crowded room, a pencil and wind that struck so coldly,
how could one ever be around people yet still feel so lonely?