I remember getting THAT call... every second.
I remember the STING of the cold air, against my skin.
The JAGGED stains of dirt on my jeans
When I FELL to the solid ground.
...Like I was just STABBED.
Dirt COVERED my hands, that could be mistaken for blood.

I could HEAR the sound... of my heart shattering.
An EXCRUCIATING wave of pain.
I couldn't BREATH.
Choking out tears & Stifled SOBS, until I was nothing.
But, a SMALL mess on the cold ground.

My eyes flicker OPEN,
"Did I JUST die? Am I dead?"
I FELT dead, and empty.
I feel an AWFUL numbness, take over MY body.
I look AT the sky, through scattered tree limbs.
Specks of WHITE fall on me.
My hot face stings WITH every speck.
...with EVERY newly made snowflake
I now see MY breath in front of me.
Staring at the SNOW as it falls.

I am nothing but a SHELL,
I am NOTHING without her.
I live FOR her.
So... HOW do I learn to, live without.
I wish for DEATH.
But, I get CONSTANT waves of numb and empty pain instead.

I hate HER and I can't stand her.
...But I NEED her.
So, NO matter how much she hurts me.
I'd APOLOGIZE for it, and she's killed me so many times.
That if she got MY blood on HER hands, I'd clean them.

I just CAN'T un-love her.

nothing is more heart-wrenching than me-without-you.

Writing poetry has changed me a lot
since i became a subject of the material,
and my words are more fixed and flawed
than myself.

They flow from line to rhyme,
stabbing me into the heart
a hundred pages of thoughts
is spinning so fast
that i can barely catch any of it
if it really means
a lot to me.

It is as to flood me into downpour with it
from the Sun
yet the typical look reflected on a mirror
reminds me of who i really was
and nothing can be re-written from a history.

No roses can blossom without a rain, they said,
like they babbles up themselves to say
in front of enemies
that every petals are new-born warriors
and
the rest of  the past was the biggest blur
as if they were dropped directly into
a wrong time, at a wrong place,
like it's made by fairy tales.