Sitting in its dusty bag
Quietly
Longing to be played

A melancholic instrument
Carrying memories
Of better times

And the small
Pang
Of pain
And longing
Always pulls on my heart strings
Whenever I
Take it out
Of that dusty bag
Look at it, and
Play it

Its warm sound
Filling my ears
The comforting
Vibrations
Running through the instrument
Reminds me all too much
Of those times
Those happier times
Years ago
When everything
Was fine

I place the guitar
Back in it's dusty bag
And once again
That door
Leading back to those memories
Shuts with a bang.

Finally
I've regained
Some strength
It's just a little
But it's enough

I've got to thank you
For inspiring me
To count my blessings
And now, here I shall

A group of seven

One 
The one who's always there
To lend strength
And lead others
Through turbulent 
Times

Two
The best friend I could
Ever
Ask for
Always being by my side
No matter what
How far
How long
No words 
Can ever
Fully express what I'd have
To say to you

Three
The most hilarious one
You brighten up
Anyone's day
With your silly jokes
And never ending
Laughter

Four
A reliable friend
Mature and understanding
You're always there
Ready to step in
And help
Or just
Be drunk

Five
Thankyou
For always trying your best
For always being your best
Despite the pressure
And everything else
In this period of friendship
I have only one word to describe you
Awesome

Six
You and your 
Hilarious 
Ridiculous
Amusing 
Antics
Wherever you go
The first thing in the morning
Or the last thing in the afternoon

Seven
Our friendship
Is one
I value
A lot
It's one of the 
Longest
Oldest
And meaningful ones
This friendship
Through the sun and rain
Is still sustained
Till now
And I'm so glad
It did
For I saw many other
Attempts?
Crumble and fall

So thank you
All of you
For being part of
My life

You cant
Break
Something
That is already
Broken

Unless
You pick up the pieces
And
Grind them
To
Dust

Words

I don't even know
Whose I can trust
Which I can trust
Which are really meant
Which are just things
People say
Just cause
It's appropriate to

I don't like them
They're not
Constant
You don't know if they're
Real
They can be that pillar of support
Until the mirage
Gets broken
And it just
Disappears
Dropping you
Like a stone

This is why i like
Solids
Hard things
Cause solids don't
Just disappear
They're
Real
And they
Don't
Lie

Words are like
Medication
They can save you
Give you life
But they can also
Take that
Away
And ****
You
And still seem
Harmless

Interesting
How you can
Manipulate
Them
To contradict
To agree
To reveal
To hide
To confuse
To clarify
But that means
Everything
Is doubtable
The duality
They can be your friend
Or your enemy

Words
You either
Hear them
For a few seconds
Read them
On paper or texts
Whether they're the
Former
Or the
Latter
They can still
Be
Thrown away
Disregarded
Given away
Changed
Never to be
Meant
Thought of
Again

"What are words
If you really don't mean them
When you say them..."

I
Hate
Things
That
May
Disappear.

Cough cough
Hack
Shudder
Head hurts
Giddy
Feel like
Sleeping

Sometimes,
I just wish this were
More than a cough
And that it will take me away

Maybe the medication
Oh yes
Maybe that little sticker
On the side of the box
Marked “POISON”

It doesn’t taste that bad.

I feel it.
It’s inside me.
The ever-present
Emptiness
I seek to fill.
Nothing ever seems to be able
To fill it.

Music?
The sound echoes through the silence
But isn’t intense enough.

Tears?
They just pour into an endless chasm
Leaving me feeling emptier than before.

Laughter?
A feeble attempt at cramming the vacuum
With that loud, happy (?) breathlessness.

Hugs?
Not even the tightest can reach
Those deep, dark depths.

I just feel
Hollow.

Not knowing
Why.

Every time
I feel like stopping
Giving up
When I find
It unbearable
When I find
It torturing
You always manage to come in
You almost always come in
At that moment
And give me encouragement
Like a light to a moth
In the darkness
Giving me warmth
In the cold winter
Make me feel so much better
Giving me a reason
To hang on.