When we connect to the parts of each other that are hidden, it is no surprise to be cut loose. It's not each other that we say goodbye to, it's those parts of ourselves.

Part – I
It plucked every string of my heart.
She/It obliterated me.
She sang.
She sang for me.
In tongues. Which only She & I know.
She sang for me.

Part – II
As per inconsequential request,
We’re migrating to the moon.
Infinitely flying within our small infinite.

In the acidic rain
Of her depression and pain
She felt of none worth
So her eyeliner dispersed......

As tis I said
Mi amour',

Thou doth not need eyeliner,
Thine eye's art already beautiful
Like the ocean shores....
Beautiful to me at least.......

Though tis I kneweth still she wanted eyeliner,
So I picked up a piece of earthly charcoal,
And drew back on the black lining!
That was just a plus,
To her already darkened **** pupil's.....


©By Brandon Nagley- Lonesome poet's poetry

"i would die for you"
was always the utmost declaration of unconditional love.
what more could be wanted than one who
would sacrifice themselves so that you could live?
very few know that some things are worse
than death.

"i would die for you"
is not the the truest test of boundless love.
for some, it is not death that they fear most
some even wish for death to arrive on their doorstep,
to take them away from the hell of living
to the peaceful limbo of after-death.
for many, for someone else is not the only reason
that they would willingly give up their life.

"i would die for you"
means NOTHING to many.
and true love MEANS SOMETHING.
so for sadly too many,
"i would die for you"
is not enough.

after all,
for too many,
you do not truly love the face that drives you towards
the razor, the pill bottle, the frayed rope.
you truly love the face that
stops your shaking hand from
etching your pain permanently onto your skin
you truly love the face that you would
walk through your own personal hell for
you truly love the face that you would
*LIVE FOR.

Tiny droplets eluding from the sky,
Making a rhythmic proliferation ,
Drooping in perfect harmony,
Mesmerized by her ravishing beauty,
Always succumbed to her charm,
Nurturing  life on the earth,
Embracing the whole of nature.

A blank diary lies on the desk.
hiding the purpose on its pages.
It is willing to absorb
the unkempt emotions as ink.
Moisture of ink is ready to get dry
as scribbles of an untold tale.
It may reveal its destiny as testimony
through mysterious mist as saga.

The papers are fragile so as fingers.
Thin texture may not bear the accumulated weight
of emotions the heart carry with much ease.
As all emotions are frost in compressed past.

The chamber is sealed by the present
and key is lost in the depth of future.
But the heat of burning memories
melts the chamber creating flash flood
and gush from the heart as tears.
It reflects on cheeks as rainbow hues
masking the melancholy in its splendour.

The destiny of diary remains blank
as it never got wet by ink or contrive the tale.
Heavy emotional down pour rewrites
the destiny of  an unwritten tale.

Diary got into the shelf as a mundane routine.
While disclosing a truth of life for us.
‘Some tales are better left unsaid’……

For two years hands were held and lips were pressed together.
For two years we held hands and held eachothers hearts.
For two years I was there for you every hour of the day and night.
For two years we were best friends, boyfriends, inseparable.
For two years all I gave you was love.
For two years all you did was play me and sleep with others behind my back.
For two years I wasted my time loving someone who was incapable of loving me.