the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

My words became
knives.
A paragraph,
a sword.
And when I
made
my first speech,
the room
                was
                        hit
                             with
                                            a
                                                    grenade.

To write words over and over
To explain what it feels to love you
To express what you mean to me

No words can be enough for that
And so I always end up erasing them

you’ve stolen so much of my soul,
i’m still trying to remember who i was

Razor-sharp tears that make way
out of the delinquent hearts,
wrecks havoc in the sunlight
and mourns in the darkness.

The neglected alleys of society
becomes the pitstop for life,
yet the tears never stop flowing;
like the vows for life,

in good times and in bad,
in sickness and in health
until death do us part.