my brain bleeds for him
the thoughts of him stabbing my mind
creating cracks of light within the carefully
maintained façade

and i let it happen

strands of your hair linger
intertwined with my veins
cold, they were before
now warmth is all they feel

and even though your veins are gone
your temperature remains
my body refuses not to
bathe in your remains

yet, it still shivers
by even just the thought of cold
fearing that what once was gold
will all turn into mold

your veins
are all it yearns for
to it, time is so serene
too quiet to ignore

every blemish on your skin
every word once said
everything that happened since
every gesture, every breath
is one strand of hair
carefully sewn within
a body of despair

I am a man made of-
      tragic love stories
      of those that never last,
      and of those that never was
      the sad love, quietly burning,
      beautiful and forever yearning...


      -ManInBlack

You’re a flower I cannot pick,
        a love so unrequited,
        it makes me feel so sick

I can only look at you
      and admire you from a distance,
      living through my eyes, only by a glance

To see you is enough to make my day,
      oh what a lovely thought,
      your beauty, its more than I can say

You’re a pretty-pretty flower,
        an everlasting one,
        an unrequited love,

        burning like the sun...


        -ManInBlack

Both sending letters,
they tore their love apart—
each line like a "don’t leave me,"
they looked like real love letters.

Reading between the lines,
you’d see who played the part.
The strange thing is, the culprit
was not of either heart.

Jealousy, the silent fire,
gave context and reasons,
possessing their prey,
it moved without control.

Can love be found again,
by one who shared the blame?
Can a fractured soul find wholeness
through forgiveness, love, and name?

Your sorrowed letters shake me,
each farewell cuts me through.
Some of us never get letters—
not of friendship, nor of loss,
much less of love from you.

Los dos enviando cartas
rompían su relación,
parecían un no me dejes
reales cartas de amor.

Mirando entre palabras
verías al culpable,
lo extraño del culpable
ninguno de ese amor.

Los celos crean
contexto y razón,
poseyendo a sus víctimas
accionan planes sin control.

¿Será posible volver al amor
siendo un coautor de tal error?
¿un espíritu quebrado unirá sus trozos
con palabras de amor y perdón?

Conmociona mi espíritu
tus tristes cartas de adiós,
algunos no recibimos cartas
ni por quiebre, ni amistad,
menos siquiera por amor.

life was a merry-go-round,
with you around,
seeing you everyday was like getting those bundles of tickets,
from arcade games,

a part of me desperately wished,
that we held hands in the bathroom stall,
i wanted to cuddle up with those comfy arms,
i wanted to secretly send messages to each other,
like it was a cryptic code,

i wish i was the one you wanted,
i wish i was the one that you were bonkers about,
i wish i was the one you were longing to chat to,
it was all just me,

now i get it,
it wasn't me you waved your hand at,
it wasn't me that always received those witty smiles of yours,
it wasn't me that would joke with you during moral class,
it was never me,

i get it,
i'll never be more than a friend to you,
i'll never dare to dream of what could have happened,
what could i have done to ruin this friendship,
to be selfish,
to have you all to myself,

but i'll let you float away,
like a kite,
far away now,
never to be reached by my sight,
because god forbid i fall in love with you again,
and again,
just for my fragile heart to be broken,
shattered into millions of pieces,
superglued by my friendship with you that i'll always hold dear to my heart

Give me a name.
Give me a title that I will only hear,
when it drifts from your soft lips.

Don't call me by the simple name I have now.
A name I never wanted,
nor asked for.

I long for the name
that makes you think of sweeter things.
Like sugar.
Like the sun.

I want the name that comes to mind
when I am held in your sight,
or in the back of your thoughts.

Would it be nicer?
Would it be longer or shorter?
Would my new name be simple,
or a mouthful?

Or maybe I don't want a new name at all.
Maybe I just want you to look into my eyes,
and claim me by the name I have now.

I want you to call me by the name you love most.
I pray it's my name.

Does it hurt when she treats you like a shadow of the millions,
because she’s the light.
Does it hurt, when you realise you only believed you had a chance
while you were just playing into her elaborate dance.

Even if it does,
you keep living
in all the things you never said
hoping that somewhere, somehow
it wasn’t just all in your head.

I know that it stings to know
she knows exactly how to reach you,
she just never does.
But for some reason, the thought of her
still makes my tormented heart stir.

So why the sadness that you’re over
when you never even really began?
Why do I mourn the life we could of had,
when it was never more than a daydream,
now a source of pain.

It hurts me that you didn’t stay,
I feel it everyday,
But I guess what I really want to know is,
Does it hurt you like it hurts me?