Poetry
Became the voice
Of things
that could never
be spoken

Poetry
Gave reason
To what is
unfathomable
and unimaginable

Poetry
Fueled the desire
to incorporate love
Into the world
of literature

Poetry
Told stories
Of thoughts
That only
speak of love

But
It is also because
of poetry
How she came
to understand
What is suffering
*and how sorrow feels like

well, honey,
if you fall,
you'll get hurt.
- mom said when i was seven, playing in the garden.

see?
you got hurt.
- i told myself whilst tears rolled down my cheek, like a flowing river.

i was falling in love,
and i forgot what mom once said
so when i remembered again,
my knees were already bleeding
and it was already all too late.

So painfully aware of being apart
from that which gives me my breath
helps to maintain the rhythmic beating
of my swollen heart--

So horribly bereft at having said goodbye
to one who has always kept me here
who has cradled me, held me tight
through every moment of every sigh--

So hauntingly sure I will not survive
that life will have no meaning
with you not here to hold, to guard,
to keep me alive--

And so forlornly looking as you saunter away
your laugh, your jokes, your smiles and gentle heart
all that gave me reason to wake up
and live another god-forsaken day--

But so determined this time to carry on
to make it through without you here
to somehow hold myself together without you
and to just make it until the break of dawn...

Roses  are red
So they always, have been
A love like ours
Is living in sin

Kisses under
The pale street light
A broken promise
To stay together
Till the end of time

I told her, I loved her
With a tear filled eye.
I told her I needed her,
All she could say was, goodbye.

Roses are red
Our love is dead

Walk away, in the pouring rain
My heart now of blue
Filled with all pain

Once the earth kissed the sky, then separated day from night, only to cause a rain storm from our heavens eyes.

Thunder and lightning
made our hearts collide
Bringing the once calm sea
To a roaring tide

Pulling our once love
Under the waves
Where it has died.

It's not right to pity over you
It's not right to crave for your touch
It's not right to talk, smile or even see you
It's not right to even remember you.

Because you've forgotten
Because you've changed
Because you like somebody else
Because you've moved on.