when all is said and done
and all has been resolved
there is the ease of resolution
no more tears to bawl

all is said and done
all the words were said
all the questions asked
all the pain been bled

now you go on living
get back to your life
pretend that nothing happened
ignore the scars, there was no knife

and when you think you’re able
when at last, you’re back to you
there is the faint remembering
you realise you’ve been lied to

the cuts were self inflicted
that’s what you’ve been told
the boiling water poured on you
had no intention to ever scold

but there was a knife and there was water
unfamiliar knife rack and a kettle
in your home they’re not, mental images
held by hands not yours, unsettle

it doesn’t matter anymore
not relevant the truth was spun
you’re meant to have moved on
when all is said and done

Maybe my heart
was born too small
for the love
it carries...

That's why it
shares it
just to
give itself
breathing
space

Somebody tell the sky,
That it doesn’t have to be gray,
If it doesn’t want to anyways.

It’s awfully hard,
To rain on someone’s parade,
If the sun is shining through you.

Even when your curtain is closing,
That’s no reason for you,
To not give the best finale you can.

let me
want your future —
   one that's
   certain and sturdy
and need your now —
   where we're
   calm and quiet

where waking up
   doesn't hurt
   anymore
   because it's
   no longer
   just
   a dream

I fell for him, not in whispers or sighs,
But in crescendos, in rhythms, in skies
Painted with notes that danced in the air,
Each song a thread of the love we’d share.

He wasn’t just music—he was the sound,
The hum of the earth, the pulse underground.
A genre, a chord, a tune soft and true,
Would echo his soul, would carry his hue.

But now he is gone, and silence remains,
A hollow refrain, a ghost in the strains.
Yet when music plays, I’m drawn to the year,
I search for a sign he might have been near.

Did he hum this tune? Did he hear this beat?
Did it brush his soul? Was it his retreat?
The thought is a comfort, though bittersweet,
A harmony bridging where life and death meet.

For love like this does not fade away,
It lingers in songs, in chords that replay.
So I listen, I wonder, I dream him alive,
Through melodies where his spirit survives