I find that our language
Is nothing but screams.
Screams that trigger a deep urge,
Somewhere inside us,
To scream back.
And so our speech becomes
A twisted language of pain,
Understood only by those
Who bear the agonising weight of life.

How many times do I
have to remind myself:
"You have to let it go
so that your heart doesn't break
and your soul doesn't ache.
If it was right it would stay"

But all I urge to do is
grab your collar
and shout at my loudest volume:
"Can you give up on breathing
and still hope to live? "

I remember you
the smile, the laughter,
the tears, the sadness,
the thoughts, the stories,
I remember you

I remember us
skin drenched in sweats,
the white sheets of
my bed or yours,
us,
groaning, moaning,
longing, yearning,
darling,
I remember

I remember me
who once was just
someone with a
monotonous, dreary,
humdrum life
before you
happened,
love,
I remember

I remember everything
the sunflower that you gave me,
unlike any other man,
with their roses
or glorious necklace
a sunflower, it was,
darling,
as if you were
giving me sign,
I remember

I remember everything,
the door, it was made of wood
the ****, the classic
and old silver ****
the sound of how
it was being pulled
by your hand
Saturday night, it was, darling
you left me
you left me there
you left me there
alone