In the rain out with an umbrella black,
Standing still with the weights on your shoulder.
Passes by the passengers of time,
Leaving footprints of moments enclosed in your mind.

Traveling and meeting eyes,
With strangers you may never find
Again in this lifetime...
Lost in the sands of time.

Feeling broken and the heart heavy,
Hurt in ways never imagined.
Drifting down the window pane like rain,
In solace you find your stay.

We believed in our own sorrows, and drunk the last sip of relief until the reigns were lost in the forest.
Now, we are deserted to the realm of the ocean’s abyss, left to kiss the lotion smoothing the desert on my skin.
I abandoned all hope, including the ship in the saving grace of preventing my loss of a superficial fantasy.
Shackled, left to roam freely in our thoughts, breathing for freedom is impossible in the last stages of cancer.

When my body gives in to cells eating away my life, I too, will say goodbye to my long-standing dreams that were aboard.

In the bed the thorns out
Piercing through my skin
The red liquid flowing, peeling
My body hollow.

I want it, I need it
I don't want to stay so I'm going
Save the blessings for your sins
You don't owe me nothing.

Escaping the purgatory
As the heart bleeds out
Bones shed the skin
Overcoming the impending doom.

Slowly the world fades
As my eyes turns black
My soul subtly rise
To reach the depths of hell.

The last time I breathe in
To fulfil my last wishes
Grant myself death
As it offers me in its cold palm.

I have been listening to you. To all your worries and pain, your sorrows and tears, your brokenness and shame. I've witnessed everything, held you heart and loved you all the same.

But when my time came and all of me became broken, why did you throw me away?

my nightstand is full of unread books, lavender candles and leather journals.
i like to keep books beside my bed because i would like to read someone else's outlook on life instead of writing about my sorrows.

Broken mirrors
Broken hearts
Broken minds
Like shards of glass
The patterns forming a work of art
Shrouded by demons of the past

The black cat saunters over
Tipping salt as he alludes
To the bad luck I can’t dispose of
Rubbing salt into my wounds.

I see an Orthodox priest
A ***** blonde with blue eyes
The people murmur as he passes by
Garlic, they cry,
To fight the psychotic presence
In order to eliminate
This demonic essence.

He blessed an expectant mother
In flat #43
He doesn’t recognise her folly
And leaves her in glee.

A young soldier
One among 3
Died after his cigarette was lit
From the same matchstick
As the clock struck 4
A constant reminder
Of its incessant tick-tock
In spite of the woe

The woman- pregnant no more
Comes to the cemetery threshold
Wishing her late husband
And stillborn boy cheerio.

I look at the sky
There they glide, the harbingers of evil
Thick billed ravens and crows
A symbol of one’s sorrows
Flying over the dead
In search of a feast of despair.

Leaving my new shoes on the table
I kiss my love’s forehead
And point at the rainbow outside
While thinking I’m the luckiest woman alive.