They said you cried to many tears so you drowned yourself in the ocean.
Now I’m waiting on sandy white shores.
Searching for the part of me left out in the wide open sea.
Lately your face hides behind my eyelids.

Cherish these memories.
                                                                ­  Precious as can be.
                                            Blindly chasing goals,
                         has is own penalties.  
      And your enemies,
will swipe your knees.                                  
As best friends,
won't always be.
I'm proud of you,
You not proud of me.
   A bond formed, with trust
    Will always be most important - you'll see

nothing is ever finished
do not believe in the definitive
life is a spectrum
black and white exists
to those who live fixed
wander
grey is the colour
of a question
that has no answer.

I still try to wash you from my life,
my body,
my mind,
I still take all my clothes,
my sheets,
my towels
And put them in a wash with too much detergent praying that this time,
You will not be there anymore,
That your scent which I know faded months ago,
Will be erased from my memory.
I still smell that ******* hoodie which sits folded in my closet,
Like it did,
When it,
When I,
Waited for you to come back and
Claim it,
Claim me.
I still smell what I used to when I burrowed my head into your chest,
And get hit with a wave of nostalgia,
Breathing deeper than I ever had before,
Because you taught me what breathing felt like.
Because you showed me that I had never known what air in my lungs felt like before
Because I feel like there is water in my ******* lungs and I am gasping for air daily.



[This will never be finished. I have nothing left to say. There is nothing left to say. This will be added to the collection of unfinished work which will never see the light of day again. Because we all need to give up on something in this world. And I can't give up on you as easily as you did to me. So I will give up on putting my thoughts on a page with some grace and delicacy and fluidity that moves perfectly. I will give up on that]

(e.m.w)

A lot of time spent
having miscellaneous conversations with the air.
Even stupid questions like "how's your day" acting as if it'd give an answer, or, even more,
a whisper of inspiration
It's an obligation, or, maybe a delegation, or, a confirmation?
that we will create a masterpiece before insane peace
With a piece of our minds becoming a little less peaceful by the day.
Soon our minds will turn into violent catapults hurling out sentence after sentence making our paper bleed
                                                     Black, Blue, Red, Gray
Joining a cult created by the letters we created ourselves
falling into the abyss these stanzas and paragraphs invite us into
And don't get me wrong, it sounds terrible, but it's home.
There's no place like it.
Where these words are so much more than words,
they're family.
But frequently, we get into arguments that erupt into something sinister
and our desks become littered with papers that wilt and wither into nothing more than liters upon liters
of a type of alcoholic beverage that'll tempt us into becoming outspoken drunkards
But that's the goal:
*to be outspoken.

Please don't try and correct me.
I'm not broken. I'm maybe free-spirited and a little out-spoken but I've got methods that water would even soak in and when you confuse me with that ****** J.R.R. Tolkien just because I'm burning herbs that Gandalf would be smokin', I'm going to brush it off like you're just joking and I'll get back to the life that i'm continuously toking, kick it back like it's all easy stroking, become at one with nature like an invisible cloak and be that dream but still get awoken by the ground as if something is choking me by the hands of some celestial bloke and hence why i feel like evoking some people with words like they are subliminal pokes and hopefully I'll please whatever it is that had me initially provoked then.

My heart aches when I remember
The time we spent together
Talking, laughing, smiling, loving.

But time fades memories away
Like an old Polaroid without an owner.
All that's left is pain and torment.

A few tears can bring a whole fortress down,
As long as the pain is directed to the heart,
And nothing is left, but a terrible scar.

I want you, but I don't want you.