My mother's tears bend my spine.
Her weigh bends the wood that has made me strong like a tree in a storm.
The water from her tear helps my feet sink roots into the ground, only to hope it keep us from washing away.
Her heave breath, pump air into mine with a pray that it will keep us both alive.
Her scared hand had clawed their way up from hell so that I will be one step closer to heaven when I take over the fight.
Because with my brother youthful eye watch our mothers sob, I know this fight can longer belong to her.
Therefore I pick up her broke shield and bent blade.
I straighten my wooden spine over the weight of those that watch.
Willing to become an unbreaking oak to keep my beloved safe.
Ready to fight as a warrior in the world war that is life.

Bells overbrim with sound
And spread from cupolas
Out through the shaking air
Endless unbreaking circles
Cool and clear as water.

A stone dropped in the water
Opens the lips of the pool
And starts the unovertaking
Rings, till the pool is full
Of waves as the air of bells.

The deep-sea bell of sleep
Under the pool of the mind
Flowers in concentric circles
Of annihilation till
Both sight and sound die out,
Both pool and bells are quelled.

Venom be spat from the tongue that blinds.
Twixt the lovers.
Whose hearts, no longer entwined.
Words tied and tangled.
Twisted and lost.
Love becomes mangled.
Crumbled to dust.

No words dare be spoken.
The lovers that were.
Invoked the monster of Lady Medusa.
Screeching siren.
Lady's on fire.
Don't dare put her out.

Her eyes surely saved for you.
Muted sounds.
Exploding fear.
Hearing her dear.
Utters last squeak.
Unable to speak.
Bit his own tongue.
As she turns him to stone.
With eyes that don't see.
(c)LIVVI








Like   Comment   Share


Comments




Olivia Kent





Write a comment...





..
















Olivia Kent

9 hrs · Daily Mail Online ·



.
I rarely use Costa, I will be working back at Winchester hospital shortly.
I will use their canteen, the food is generally very nice x














Revealed: The squalor inside Costa coffee shops

A total of 23 Costas got two or less stars in their most recent inspections, including a hospital branch which had paninis at risk of contamination with bacteria which can cause paralysis and death.



dailymail.co.uk



..




Like   Comment   Share





‎مستر صلاح السعيطي‎ likes this.
.

Comments






View 3 more comments
.



Olivia Kent







Olivia Kent Ward , starting Monday x

Like · Reply · 8 hrs

..



Philip McCarthy







Philip McCarthy Good luck with the job Olivia, But Im a bit of a coffee freak but will never use Costa it alwaysgives me bad guts ache afterwards.

Like · Reply · 7 hrs

..



Olivia Kent







Olivia Kent Thank you Philip **

Like · Reply · 6 hrs

..



Philip McCarthy







Philip McCarthy Hey I'm at the Cafe Reflections for the first time. It's good here x Photos to follow

Like · Reply · 23 mins

..




Olivia Kent





Write a comment...





..
.




See more recent stories
.















Where have you worked in the past?
.
10 Pending Items
.








Edit bioAdd a short bio





Studied The use of metaphoric images and a few dark words x at Poetry
.




Lives in Southampton
.




From Dorchester, Dorset
.




Followed by 41 people
.

Add featured photos
.












Friends
· 629



Waritsara Karlberg




Haydn Swan




Richard Papworth




Charlie Giardino




Manoj John Rajadyn




Bradley ***




Elly Horne




Zack Fisher




David Dj-hammy Hamilton

.












Photos
· 209



"Super cool."

"My boy"

Jade Xuereb's photo.


"A big shout out to everyone at the Amy Winehouse Foundation gig last night! Did two sets, first just me and the second backing."

Gray Ian's photo.

Waritsara Karlberg's photo.


"Storm Journey * unbreaking stone the key that unlocks the sky, and something races lionlike from beyond he thunderclap and the forest thrashes and waves like the choir in a Pentecostal church "yes, Jesus! Thankya, Lawwwd!" yes, there will be water if God wills it, so 'tis said. i read something in the living strokes of skyfire, the dance of something both benevolent and dangerous, and i can taste it like wine on the breath of the onrushing storm. it tastes like life, pouring into my lungs so fiercely i feel like i might be consumed by an overabundance of vitality. i can see that vitality all around me, the fecundity of Summer, relentless in its upward-thrusting, blossoming, breaking from the loam, bursting from the chrysalis, defying the arid winterlock that held the ground mere months ago. i walk from miracle into miracle, from myth into myth, the Universe enlarging with each step, until i'm carried like an infant in the arms of a loving storm."

Angie Colvin's photo.

Sean Creed's photo.

.
..

..










Chat with friends














Laura J Kent










Ken Philo










Bettie Davis










Karen Wilmott

thoughts are the songs of the mind
           only myself may hear,
           louder than laughter
           audible as low-toned whispers.
sanctuary of the fugitive heart
           when all else has failed
           or fled like rats
           from a sinking ship.
untold secret of an heir
           which seldom finds a confidant
           if only not uttered in sleep.
unbreaking lance of the errant
           with sinews rare
           as his hands are bare.
thoughts rare.
thoughts *******.
thoughts prodigious.
thoughts uninvited.
father of action
son of an idle cloud.
bereave me of my lance
                           my secret
                           my sanctuary
                           my song;
and oh…
how naked
i shall be!

Blustering beats as her feet pound on the pavement
Racing against the world in what feels like a single heartbeat.

She’s been running for miles, losing herself in a world that can no longer decipher which way is up and which way is down.

He’s been running for eternity, seeking the girl who has always been nothing more than the whimsical melody that the birds carry throughout the wind.

Running and running and running some more.
But what do you do when your feet start to get sore?
When you’re tired of running and running some more?

----<3----

She’s gotten up only to fall again.
He’s been dragged as if by an invisible hand.
The chains bound both prisoners in unending journeys.

But they created a fire that burned brighter then hell, broke free and ran fast
until daylight fell.

Swallowed in darkness with paths intertwined.
They ran and kept running with no source of guide.

She ran too fast.
She lost him.
He’s gone.
Her heart’s screaming “No!” but her mind’s saying “Move on”.

Getting lost ain’t so bad if you block out the pain.
Run.
Run.
Run.
You’ll be okay.

She stood still for a moment and took a deep breath.
Her heart racing,
Her limbs shaking,
She was scared half to death.

There she stood like a rose, hiding behind thorns to contain herself in an unbreaking barrier.  

He fought and he fought and he fought to get in.
But her barriers held strong and his fight against them left him ridden with scars.
----<3----
Determined.  
Devoted.
Desperation.
Desire.
He fought, is still fighting to overcome her exterior.

The thorns might hold strong as a natural defense,
But hidden within is a rose that is wilting.

She wants to give up,
To fly high in the sky
Like the three little birds that are passing her by.

They’re tweeting and chirping without a care in the world.
Oh how she’d give to get lost like that.

Ha, how absurd!

----<3----

It’s so dark.
She can’t see.
The moonlight is hidden.

SNAP.
CRUNCH.
A breaking twig.

He found her!
He’s here!
Go!
Run away!

Her mind tried to warn her.
But her heart said to stay.
Who is to say which knows the right way?

Running and running and running some more.
But what do you do when your feet start to get sore?
When you’re tired of running and running some more?

----<3----

Blindly she ran.
The trees were a blur.
The vines and the leaves,
The whole world behind her.

Faster and faster and faster she went.

She might not be happy, but she’s safe at last.
Her heart is safe from the pain of the past.

Her defenses are back, no more being afraid
Of the man who was stealing her heart day by day.

He searched every tree in his mission to reach her,
But she’s no longer in sight.

He’s lost her.

----<3----

She ran like the wind.
Faster and faster and faster than…
…slower?

She fell to the floor.
The vines grabbed at her leg.

Too fast.
Too fast.
She should have slowed down.
She’s so tired of fleeing.
She just wants to be found.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wanted to stay.
I miss you.
I want you.
God, why am I always running away?”

----<3----

Sobbing and sobbing and sobbing some more.
Her ankle is stuck.
She’s sprawled on the floor.

It looks like it’s broken.
But it will be fine.
Her heart is the problem.
Because it’s no longer “mine”.

She wants him.
She ran.
It’s always the same.
The insecurities convince her she must run away.

She’s always abandoned.  
Always forgotten.
The best of the best can quickly turn rotten.

He stopped running to find her.
He’s not giving up.
He’s just tired, so tired.
Like, “What the ****?!”

Why did she leave?
“Come back! ******* a!
I miss you.
I love you.
Why couldn’t you stay?”

Two souls that are broken are breaking again.
They’re both lost, they’re both losing.
It looks like the end.

She’s curled up with leaves on the cold forest floor.
He’s gripping his head pacing like a caged dog.

His thoughts are so loud.  
He just wants her back.
But her crying is louder,
Her heart’s out of whack.

The darkness is welcomed.
The cold is refreshing.
He’s starting to cry just out of frustration.

Dismembered.
Forsaken.
Defeated.
Distressed.
Two souls that are lost among all the rest.

----<3----

He couldn’t stay there.  
He needed to move.
So he walked and he walked and he walked on some more,
Only stopping to rest when his feet began to feel sore.

Propping himself against a tree, he tried to understand why,
Why she left when his heart was beginning to fly.

The birds sang for them.
The stars knew their story.
Every heartbeat felt right, every day a new journey.

And now, it’s so empty.
The seconds tick by.
The world’s in slow motion.
All because of goodbye.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back.
Only then does he hear it,
A soft little crack

----<3----

The leaves are rustling.
A twig just broke.

A lizard?
A squirrel?
Some sick twisted joke?

Whatever it is, the sound gave him hope.
Maybe it’s her?
He could hardly cope.

Climbing to his feet, he sought out the noise.
The sounds grew louder to his surprise.

He first heard a muffled groan from below.
But the closer he got, the sobs seemed to grow.
He knew that voice.
It was her!
Up ahead.
God, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

He ran and kept running with one goal in mind.
He’d find her.
She’s here.
She can no longer hide.

----<3----

She tried to get up but her ankle gave out,
So she yelped and then quickly, she covered her mouth.

Who knew what was out there?
The night was still black.
She was tired of fighting,
She wanted him back.

Her sobbing grew louder as she laid there like that.
She felt helpless.
Alone.
She wanted him back.

Her heart began to pound when she heard a noise behind her.
He’s here.
It’s him.
He actually found her.

Her mind screamed to keep running,
But her heart begged to stay.
Lord, she was tired of running away.

Her ankle was injured,
So there she sat trapped,
With leaves in her hair and tears in her lap.

Waiting and waiting and waiting some more.
Today is the day her whole body is sore.

She’s tired of running from the things she wants most.
So she looks up and searches for her handsome ghost.

He’s hidden nearby.
She senses him there.
Her body is tingling from his secret stare.

----<3----
He catches her eyes seeking him in the dark,
But he’s nervous she’ll run so he stays behind bark.

Watching and watching and watching some more,
Until he sees tears running down her sweet face.

Her agony kills him, his heart won the race.

He’s broken.
She’s breaking.
The waiting must end, so he swoops in and saves her like no other can.

Sinking down to his knees, he wraps up his beauty
As sobs overtake them in a moment of unity.

----<3----

Even though their worlds crashed, the past is the past.
They’re holding each other,
Together at last.

Only when her sobs seize does she begin to see
The tears in his eyes put there by thee.

She broke him by running,
But that’s all she knew.
Oh how she wishes he already knew that she loved him,
Still loves him,
More than the stars
The world’s nonexistent in a place like “ours”.

Their sorrow has eased, for they’re home at last.
The running and running is dead in the past.

The night is still dark, but they both haven’t noticed,
Because they have grasped onto their saving light within all the darkness.

Together they burn brighter than the largest fire ever made.
No words are needed, just the promise to stay.

It screams louder and louder and louder some more,
Until the whole forest is cast with love galore.

----<3----

Moaning.
Sweet kisses.
A song made of gasps.
The forest floor spattered with loves brightest match.

Sweating and trembling from their passionate throws,

“I miss you”s.
“I love you”s.
Their stories unfold, only to be raveled again in a blanket of “happily ever after”s.
----<3----
Soaring through life, she’s as happy can be
Bundled in the arms of only he.

“******* a, I love you.  It’s crazy, I know.  But let’s run away where no one will ever know.”

She looked at him, and then shook her head no.
“I’m tired of running, because with you I’m free.  My heart is safe here, I will no longer flee.
**** running, it *****.  My feet always get sore.  I’m staying, not running, not running no more.”

The look in her eyes made his heart skip a beat,
Their feet may be sore,
But they’re willing to leap.

Flying and flying and flying some more.
This time I’m not tired so baby,
Lets soar.

The birds hang dead, paired, on the hook.
Male and female, man and wife, are strung
Up in a brace of everlasting love,
Still warm. But time will soon freeze over
Freshening blood, encrust the opened eye,
Congeal warmth. And what remains is this:
A neck-to-neck unbreaking dull embrace,
The love gone cold, unbeating hearts kept close,
Reciprocating wounds, an unforgiving stare,
The silence in a breathless, parching throat,
A half-bent wing, refusing to enfold -
Time will wear love’s fingers to the bone.

Then bullet-hardened bodies take their course
And undo softly with a rising rot.

My mother's love got taped on reels and spools,
Cassettes she threw on on an old-school deck,
On wheels that spun straight through our lives and went
Unbreaking. What played in us played there on that
Machine, so we were soundtracked to her old-school
Tunes, to folk stuff - sixties hippy **** -
That pulled our radar-hearts around and made
Our souls attend. We'd be bouyed-up on soundwaves,
Beats her hand MC-ed, her finger soft
On PLAY, and sometimes, when the mood was right,
We heard her too. Who knew that half a world
On, on some late night slot, some other tune-in,
I would find her track, and be rewound?
Her sonic reverb tells me, “dance now, dance”.

thoughts are the songs of the mind
           only myself may hear,
           louder than laughter
           audible as low-toned whispers.
sanctuary of the fugitive heart
           when all else has failed
           or fled like rats
           from a sinking ship.
untold secret of an heir
           which seldom finds a confidant
           if only not uttered in sleep.
unbreaking lance of the errant
           with sinews rare
           as his hands are bare.
thoughts rare.
thoughts *******.
thoughts prodigious.
thoughts uninvited.
father of action
son of an idle cloud.
bereave me of my lance
                           my secret
                           my sanctuary
                           my song;
and oh…
how naked
i shall be!

Chaos,
grandness around us, within us
our pasts and our fates,
the heads and the tails you bring us,
nothingness,
mistress, our all that is free and forbidden
forgiven, forsaken, forseen and forsworn;

Our endlessness,
countless infinities that you defy
our unbreaking circle of charities your grace is defined by;
our mother, our barrens of space who is bearing existence;

our eminence,
baroness, dancing the torments of pregnance
our sorceress, chanting the songs of emergence;

our senses and souls,
your spawn, your kin, your death and your sins
our servant, your serfs
kneeled down and bowed over
your lust that is shameless, yearned for and proud,
raised up and all that is tall afly
your will that is mindful, yearning, forgiving;

our Godesses, our locks and our keys,
around us, within us, the now and the here,

listening through the ears of machine elves
our absolution from words uncertain;

speaking through colours of clockwork glyphs
our faith to bring magic into our lives;

teaching through picture puzzle pattern cellar doorways
our choice to approach whenever we wish.

You are awareness. We are mindful.
You are presence. We are eternal.

a hand of circular motion
will turn and turn without promotion
a notion of loyalty unbreaking a sure one
but also forgiving will never occur

boxed up bottles full of glass
a burn from plastic flames of past
a cast doesnt mean that broken pieces should last
for the renewal will never occur

fearsome dearsome and doleful
a spur of the moment decision thats hopeful
a bowl full of concepts berating an old soul
but also the meal will never occur

a hungry and mangled existence
a hurt that never heals, for instance
a distance doesnt make you a witness
for the pain has never occurred

comes from the earth
a flower roughly
divulges tenderest
colours in early
morning dew lathered
becoming immutable
unbreaking

                      destroys

The blade pushes deeper
And yet I smile
A sick enjoyment
Of torturous pain

The cage is loose
As so the beast
Within from depths
Comes with wounded hide

The gaze unbreaking
The bond unfaltering
The life unending
The pain unbearable

The enjoyment unwavering

the flame fell to me
in the evenings of starless skies
sturdy as a pine
red as my blood
(you are unbreaking
quaking)
my mother whispered nothings
into my ear
and i was lulled asleep in a pool.
the air quivers around me
i am numb to a faint
a sparkle dances in the water
i am afraid of it -
but i will swim to shore.

the flame fell to me
and i hold it behind my eyes.
hail Amphitrite -
the flame fell to me,
charming in the seas
and i will not taste the salt,

i will drink the fire -
as if the sun fell in the sea one day.

Regrets and mistakes riddled
In a fading abyss
Where services long past rest
Are shackles at the soul’s behest

Crawling in the ashes of perception
False comforts ring as hollow realities
Bound, unbreaking, unyielding
To withering ideologies

In the demagoguery of fears
Hearts are burning so bright
When their truths are set alight
Never to cross the surface in their plight

The detriments born of desire
Create the fuel to a new kind of fire
Seizing the boundaries
Consuming rationality

In decisions to face
Creations belie
The beauty and foulness
Where reflections
Of imperfection
Die

I always find motivation at the worst of times
Driving, eating, listening to music, going to sleep,
my mind always kick-starts when my body is occupied

My motivation is a curious thing
perhaps I push forward for all the wrong reasons
money, women, fame
maybe I do for all the right ones
to care for my mother, to not have any stress

The complexity of my mind is a puzzle I have yet to figure out
I am cold and calculated, logical and precise
and yet I am warm and unsure, lazy and uncoordinated
I tell myself that this is normal, that I am “just human”
then I think “when was I ever not?”

when did the thoughts swirling in my mind become so twisted and mangled, that I forgot my physiology?
Am I human? Or something worse? Do I live up to the expectations set down by the factions of people who do not know me, truly know me?

Society, tradition, legacies, all prompt a forced evolution into what they need me to be
But what do I need?

Even I can't answer that. Friendship, love, money, space, respect, power, and the will to use it correctly
I've got pills. To admit I needed them meant to admit I was weak, and it hurt.
I am man, cunning and powerful.
No.
I've always been middle class, public school, minimum wage.
High stakes low reward, tireless work in a never ending cycle
I am no man, I am a person.
You cannot define me
I am weak and fragile, strong and unbreaking
soft and cuddly, hard and combative

As a human I have variety and the skill of adaptation at my finger tips
I can be anyone, do anything, continue in their footsteps or forge my own path
It is my choice
many things try and take my choice away
depression, government, different beliefs that all come to a point on a spear that aims to pierce me
pierce my will, my hopes and dreams, my way of life

and through all of that I still stand
dead father, sick mother, fat, drop-out, loveless, unsuccessful, a fear of the future
striving to please the ones I love while they spout hate and ignorance

weathered and torn, I still find a way to smile
and though storms rage endlessly within each and every one of us
we can still smile, laugh, love and learn
even thought the weight of our individual worlds can keep us down
we can still breath, speak, and show kindness

no accomplishment is too little
there is a war inside of all of us daring to burst out
a battle to get out of bed, to go outside, to write, to read, to have fun or to work hard
every hit of life we take could be laced with hardship and difficult decisions
and no person should be ostracized for what you deem as failures and shortcomings

we are people of duality, contradictions, and inconsistencies
there is no criteria for being human
there is nothing wrong with you, there are only things that hold you back
there is nothing perfect about you, only things that you favor about yourself
there is nothing you should be doing and nowhere you have to be

in a world where everything is out to get you, and your guard stays up
never stop fighting for the right to lower your shield
never stop fighting for the right to be who you want to be

You may not have the job you want,
you may not have finished your homework
you may not have gotten out of bed

but always remember
tomorrow is a new day to change what you hated about yesterday

…

Your parched, cracked lips taste like they have been deprived,
      robbed of sunshine, shattered porcelain, and cutting mine.

But I continue.

I kiss the sorrow off your dark lips, and
      taste bitter words, the foul bile of arguments.

I should not be your sun:
A sun will dry out anything. (Such as our love.)
The sun is unmatched; it has no equal. (You are my equal and there can be no two suns.)
Too much sunshine burns the skin.
(On the contrary, my endless hours of caressing your skin give only life.)

Therefore, I will be no sun.
My lips are the calm before a storm, as it hovers over your own.

With each kiss I breathe new life into your mouth,
      soothing your cracked desert lips and bathing the Earth anew.

I rewrite the clay sculpture of our love, at the brink of being dried by my past words.
As my tongue molds the cracks together and peels away the dead layers,
      I find the sweetness of affection underneath.
You held a flicker of a candle within for all this time.

Slowly, your Earthly lips turn warm and soft.
I watch your pupils expand
      as if they were midnight seeds in rich brown soil,
      cautiously blooming in your eyes.
For a fleeting moment I assumed these would grow to vibrant flowers
      but I was wrong; these are no flimsy, seasonal flowers.

In your eyes is a strong sapling that will grow and endlessly reach for the sky.
In time it will embrace the rain with unbreaking branches that taste the falling raindrops,
      falling like your warm tears before my eyes.

...

There are parts within me that have been shaped by early pain and fear; a life spent on guard, vigilant against the consequences of any misstep. I learned to divide myself, to hide certain parts, for safety’s sake; leaving fragments of myself that grew accustomed to survival, even as it yearned for connection. But in time, I have come to understand that this fractured past within me holds potential for healing, for growth, and, perhaps most importantly, for a new way of being.

These inner divisions; the parts of myself that I once rejected, feared, or simply didn’t understand; are not obstacles to overcome but parts of me that require compassion and understanding. They formed in a space of need, a response to an environment that offered little safety. Each part, the cautious one, the silent one, the fierce protector; emerged in response to that fearful environment. Rather than erasing them, I now see the importance of recognizing and holding space for these parts, welcoming them as survivors who kept me whole when wholeness felt impossible. Recognizing them as such has shifted my inner perspective; I now see them not as burdens but as bearers of survival, protectors who were once essential and who still seek my recognition and care.

In parenting my daughter, I see these fragmented parts come to life in unexpected ways. The father I have become is one forged in the fires of my own longing to be held, understood, and valued. Every hug, every kind word, every act of support I offer her is an affirmation of the love I once sought. In her presence, I am able to rewrite the script of my own life, to give what was missing and, in doing so, heal some of the wounds that linger within. Through her, I am learning that these parts of myself do not need to be banished; they need to be invited in, to be heard, and to be allowed to rest.

There is a quiet transformation that happens when I approach these parts of myself not with disdain or shame, but with gentle curiosity. I am learning to sit with the parts of me that flinch or recoil, to hear their voices without judgment. In doing so, I become whole, not by silencing these voices but by honoring their role in my journey. This process; an intimate and, at times, unsettling path; reveals that healing is less about “fixing” oneself than it is about integration, about making room for all that I am, even the painful pieces that I once tried so hard to forget.

In becoming a father who breaks the cycles of silence and abandonment, I find myself embracing a deeper, more profound truth: that each of these parts has a place, and each is worthy of love. I am piecing myself together in a way I wish had been modeled for me as a child, building within me the compassion I once desperately needed and am now able to extend outward. My daughter, in her innocence and wisdom, is both my greatest joy and my mirror; she shows me the parts of myself that still need my love. And in loving her, I am, at last, learning to love all of me.

—

Born into darkness,
I learned to be small,
to tiptoe through childhood,
make myself quiet, unseen.

Now I carry the scars,
not as burden but as strength,
fuel for a steady, unbreaking love,
a light my daughter will never fear.

I break the silence through resilience,
rewrite the script with gentle hands.
What I was denied,
she will know as her birthright.

For her, I am whole,
and in her, I am healed.

— Sincerely, Boris

Children are...
rather innocent creatures
Or at least,
I,
in my protected, childhood of fairy tales
Princesses and superheroes and talking frogs
Was
My third grade diary when asked to name something precious
-Family
Unlike toys unbreaking
Keeps you happy and safe
Rather,
precocious I was at that
but still too much
-Naive

As I still am,
of course
See, the thing about adolescence
Is
Hormones raging, from crushes to bullying to acting out
The time when we
              Think
We're out of the                     Naive
                  Quite dangerous, really
Since, we're really Not

A whole butload of
                         "adult"
                               stuff I'll probably
Be subject to and
May have been earlier if not for
My reclusive tenancies
and lazy ways
and protected life


I say it,
In a careless manner
Trying to look cool, even in poetry
But, like, it's going to happen
I'm going to come face
to face
Have to make
a choice
And it's nothing to be intimidated about
I tell myself
Still,
Truly a question
to consider,

I'm assuming,
one day I'll mature
And when that day comes...

Will I still be the little girl
With the two bouncing pigtails
Scrunched up face
Pencil too tight grip
Recreating
Oval eyes, smiley lips, long hair
My nth drawing of a girl?

Mind uncluttered
with what could be
         what should be
         what would be
Only, what is
And what I want

Hmm...
But as the clock strikes twelve another day has gone by
and it's well past time for me to go to bed
Another year, past
More time gone by
More memories to reminisce about
But...
Also more to look forward to

I hate odd numbers, to be more exact I fear them
That is not to say it applies to every facet of my life
Three at the end of the day is my favorite number
It's just in every other circumstance that they seem to haunt me
Like my nightmares only occurring when my alarm is set odd
Something caused by one of my benign idiosyncracies
-Nonetheless, I'm faced with odd numbers when I sleep
When I awake
When another family member has chosen the grave as a resting place
When times seem to change unexpectedly
I'm anxious about many things
But all seem minuscule compared to those numbers that follow me
Unbreaking and ration
They belong; I do not

Rolling water hitting
Hardy rocks unbreaking
Hands and feet are shaking
Empty net is floating.

No fish,no fish today
Bad luck is here to stay
Nothing to do but pray
Drive the bad luck away.

The empty stomach pains
Bed sheet red with blood stains
Life slowly, slowly wanes.

Happy moment awaits
Scotch, very sweet is tastes.

The liquid meets parched lips
Smile,smile at life's eclipse.

“I wanted to chase you right after I said goodbye. I wanted to run to you and tell you I was wrong, and that I changed my mind. That I regret hurting you. That that wasn’t what I truly wanted. That you were still the one. But I felt so crushed for breaking you, my person. I already caused you so much pain that you didn’t deserve more of me. That was why I stopped myself from pulling you back even when I wanted to hug you, to never let you go again. I wanted to save you from myself. I didn’t want to hurt anymore, so I didn’t look and back and just left all at once.”

“Didn’t you know that the aching of all those wounds would go away if you stayed and chose me? Didn’t you know that you were capable of my breaking and unbreaking? But you left me bleeding and I had to let it subside because I knew then that you were no longer coming back. I had to be my own person because if not, I would have lost myself too. It was not about the amount of pain  you have caused me, because no matter how deep the cut was, you had the capacity to mend me in an instant. You were the healing that I wanted but didn’t get back. Your leaving broke me more than if you just stayed by my side.”

“I wanted to chase you right after I said goodbye. I wanted to run to you and tell you I was wrong, and that I changed my mind. That I regret hurting you. That that wasn’t what I truly wanted. That you were still the one. But I felt so crushed for breaking you, my person. I already caused you so much pain that you didn’t deserve more of me. That was why I stopped myself from pulling you back even when I wanted to hug you, to never let you go again. I wanted to save you from myself. I didn’t want to hurt anymore, so I didn’t look and back and just left all at once.”

“Didn’t you know that the aching of all those wounds would go away if you stayed and chose me? Didn’t you know that you were capable of my breaking and unbreaking? But you left me bleeding and I had to let it subside because I knew then that you were no longer coming back. I had to be my own person because if not, I would have lost myself too. It was not about the amount of pain  you have caused me, because no matter how deep the cut was, you had the capacity to mend me in an instant. You were the healing that I wanted but didn’t get back. Your leaving broke me more than if you just stayed by my side.”
—**** Collantes // conversations we never had