Her eyes were filled with love
But she wasn't looking at me
Even though it physically hurt
She was happy

Every time she looked at him
My throat burned and ached
I watched her as i was violently coughing up the beautiful red pedals
Knowing i was going to die

Because i knew she would never look at me
The way she looked at him
And for some reason not loving her
Hurt more then the pedals themselves

Her beauty couldn’t compare to the throned flowers
Rapidly blooming in my throat
I would happily die knowing
That i died loving her

I was going to hold on
Despite the feeling of being set on fire
And knowing exactly how this was going to turn out
But i wanted to die with the little dignity i had left

My vision got blurry
blood dripped from my lip
My throat began to close
And With one last breath
The flowers consumed my smiling dead body

That beautiful hanahaki

Perhaps I was never meant to be the hero of my story.
Heroes always die.
But I am still here
I can only wonder when it will be over.

Or if I am to be the tragic antagonist
In the story of another.
But one thing I can confirm
Is that heroes are never happy.

And regardless of whether I am
I certainly will meet a tragic end.
That's always how these things go.
I don't think my story was written with a happy ending in mind.

And thus one day
Just when things feel like they're finally
Finally going right for me.
I'm going to collapse again.

Maybe it is time for me to accept that things won't get better
and that they're only going to get worse from here.

-Kore

Once there was a lonely crow,
Who fell in love with the nightingale's broken soul
Bewitched by his otherwordly beauty and frailty
She yearned for his song to possess of her body

The nightingale fell in love with the crow's genuine affection
Of how she visited every day to listen to his misfortunes
She accepted his whole being despite of his imperfections
A broken bird like him doesn't deserve to have salvation

They shared a special bond, no one in this world could understand
One moment of their affection is eternity in Time's hand
The two understood that Fate abhorred their unlikely passion
And one night, they knew, everything came to a conclusion

"Sing with me, my love", the nightingale hums
"For this is a memorable night  I wish that would last"
The crow who does not sing, sang a song full of love
Two incompatible birds wove their melodious sounds

"Will you hold my hand while I sleep?", the tired nightingale pleads
The crow nodded her head, not looking at his misery
While holding his hand, she promised of unending songs of devotion
The nightingale closed his eyes and dreamed of their reunion

One thing I never had
was a kind dad

I wish a lot that I could’ve
But as I ponder over the
thought

And realize that without that
I would be the teen I am today

But like most boys
I still wish to have a dad

That wouldn’t hurt or hit me as bad
and that would be there for me

Cause my life hasn’t been easy
but I am thankful for those who
we’re there

In the times of darkness but I can’t stop

THINK WHAT WOULD IT BE LIKE TO HAVE A KIND
DAD?

write me a tragedy
and i'll write the tale of you and i-
i will build you cathedrals and palaces of words
and burning infernos of our love-
leave trails of ash onto each page
and give us a bittersweet end
so that you may realize the words i spill out will burn you-
that to love a poet- to love me-
i make my tragedy yours