my poems
feed off of lost sleep
and slowing heartbeats

but when the mosters
hiding in the dark at night
won’t let me sleep

my poems
are what keeps me
from being overrun with fear

you know how,
some day
our hearts will stop beating
finishing our journey to see the ending?

you are dying
constantly
every second you live
and there is a mysterious beauty
in the sense that
living is just a process of dying

sure, maybe we are never truly dead
but if thats the case,
we were never truly alive in the first place

these are not words to mourn
my dying insides

but rather
a tribute

to the beauty of never truly being alive
and living while dying at the same time

Never allow your tears
To become a full stop to your emotions

Let them be commas
Flowing as your heart wishes

You are not suddenly fine
After crying for five hours

Let the teardrops
-Roll-
Off of your cheeks

They’ll wash your pain away

And leave behind
Open spots
For happiness to settle in

your breath smells guilty
and after all that you have done

i shouldn’t be surprised, really
even after you have gone

youve patched up your mistakes pretty badly
but most importantly
i wont be calling you baby
for the rest of this reality

my words speak my language
and my world revolves around my wreckage

shut up and play along
until you get the chance

to bloom

smile, innocent one
but never hold your hand out

let them fall
watch them burn in flames

and when darkness retreats
back into your heart where it rests

you will be the only
bit of black
flowering in a land of light