The gift of life
  The curse of life
   The bitterness
    The jealousy
     The heartbreak
The pain of love
  The thrill of love
   Pursuing the impossible
    A conquered heart
     What cuts us to our core...

The greatest gift of life is our loneliness, our pain.
The things that make us vulnerable to love from one another.
To have a shattered heart be held by a friend, as you confess to being violated.

Cut my heart in two with this hope.
Shiver my spine with this fear;
That I will suffer loneliness all my days,
That not a single day will I ever be alone.
Set me off on the river in my casket,
When I am gone with the flowers passing.
I'm waiting for the fall, for the gift of life...

I tell you again: the greatest gift of life is our loneliness, our pain. The things that make us vulnerable to love from one another.

What's the point of waiting by the phone?
If your messages are dry and you are alone.
The person that you want so much to message back,
Is ignoring you and you're about to crack.

All the bottled emotions in your head.
Are a step away from exploding, then you're dead.
There is just so much that you wanna say...
But so many obstacles all in your way.

When your footsteps seem to fall back,
At first you'll just laugh.
You'll brush it off with a smile on your lips,
Saying this is just a temporary mess.

But then you fall back again,
And your patience wears a little thin.
You still stand up tall,
But your empowerment is not quite the same anymore.

You tell yourself it's okay,
Until you stumble over your feet.
You sob into the ground,
And realize slowly, there's no getting up now.

If you want me
Show me
Make me see it
Feel it
Know it
No more words for me to stumble on
No more words for me to obsess on
No more words for me to drown in
This is your chance
Throw me a preserver and bring me close
Or I shall drift to sea

Etched in his mind,
The internal war,
Haemorrhaging blood,
Hidden once more,

Slowly he’s dying,
His body too weak,
Paralysed lips,
Unable to speak,

Traumatic life,
Slipping away,
His heavy soul,
Aching today.

He witnessed it all,
The burden unseen,
Screaming their names,
Tortured in dream,

His cries settle,
His memory fades,
Wiping the tears,
For former comrades.

(Repeat)

She looked so small when she slept.

The bed wasn't big by any means, I could've easily stretched myself across the entirety of it and she would still find a perfect spot to curl up next to me.

Her hair was funny.

I would wake to see traces of brownish blonde hair before anything else. It would tickle my nose as I breathed deeply, taking in her scent and letting it remind me that I'm awake.

So beautiful.

A feeling would go through me as I see her there, snuggled up against me. A warm heat that quickly spreads and turns into a dull ache. Sometimes it would pass. Sometimes I would forget it by pulling her close and breathing. She smelled like shade on a hot summer day.

Sometimes I couldn't handle the feeling, like having her was too much.

I worried about her. I worried about what she would give up, being with me, as well as whether or not she was happy. I worried so much.

When I held her, she felt so small, as if she would be lost by morning if I didn't keep hold through the night. So small, that one day I might lose her, and in a way lose myself.

I wondered if there is any reason for her to wake.

As long as I could, I would be that reason.

Forever.

I will always
love you.
Even when my
heart is
broken and
my dreams
have
diminished
into
nothingness-
even after you
have long
forgotten
who I am;

there will always
be this void
in-which
you
belong.

Can't you see how
it's a long way
down
from the haunt of the
stars stop shining
when you shut your eyes.

I sometimes
break my lines
blur between happiness
and being awake I
can barely feel anything
when you speak.

It's not quietude, nor
speechlessness it's
the way my mind grows
into a cancer of memories-
how one potentially harmful
dies everyday like clock-
work can't make time
stop the way you
do.

I break between
my lines some-
time pours into your eyes.

We can speak in fine tongues
and drink wine older than our hours
but when it comes to you I
let my tongue tie
itself in a knot.

I tend to
break into my lines
which is why you could never
know that after I said I love
you never came.