People   come
And people go
Some  turn into  friends
Some turn into foes
Some stay for years,
Some even more
But some may
Leave you lost in hopes.*

Yet all we need,
Is to learn and know,
What once comes,
will one day go.
And that we need
To go with the flow,
Letting go
What is no more.

We've all been left alone.
Only our paper and pen understand us.
We're cursed poets.

I am a campfire cold hearts like to sit around and roast their marshmallows in.

My days have no name.
People call them:
Monday,
Tuesday,
Wednesday;
But mine are all the same.
How do you tell the days apart when they all seem identical through the window pane?
Never leave your room, wake up to the sun going down, go to sleep to the sun rising then do it all again.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my word,
so clear and legible on the page
but now the lines are blurred.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my dreams,
but the fantasy that we had woven
was tearing at the seams.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my trust,
but the knives we held into our backs
were begging us to ******.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my chain,
but the bonds have since come apart
left rusting in the rain;

and even though we're broken
I'd still go back to the start,
when before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my heart.

There's a thin line between obsession and love
Often hard to discern
Obsession sits in the bathroom while you ****
Love shoves a magazine under the door