In the flow of my words, I found love.
Through these fogged eyes, I saw you.
Through this hated heart, I saw yours.
It was ever so radiant, so genuine, and so divine.
It lit up my world; from the darkness, I awoke.

I was butterflies when you saw flies.
I was lost when I saw you smile.
I ate up my words when they made you cry.
I was ready to eat myself whole
If it meant making you mine.

Then everything choked.
The world lost its color.
I lost the voice I never had.
Your silence made the dead of night recur.
I lost the only song that kept my heart astir.

In this flow of words, I found guilt.
I found heartbreak, and I found everything bleak—
Everything that I was never meant to build.
So I silenced the voice of my cries
That hummed when they saw the gold in your eyes.

In these days of melancholy,
My world feels dull, lifeless, and blue.
My mind races to the days when we talked,
So effortlessly, so full of vigor and hearts glued.
Now I see only the emptiness
And the coldness of a smoke-choked heart

But even in the quiet, you linger near,
A ghost of love I hold sincere.

i've got something,
a feeling of all sorts

if there's anything i have learned
through the entirety of my growth
it's to know and understand
and find the right moment
where i have to twist and wring and pull
such a tight knot in my chest,
just so none of my feelings
would sleep anywhere close
to those they are concerned for
or took birth 'cause of

barely tried for 407 hours,
simply gave up

always a mix and combination of almost
never the forever
always a something,
never the nothing's everything

i will wring out my heart
until every single drop
of this newly found heartbreak
breaks me from within
and does not seep
into anyone else's thought

but what if i meant
i wanted to disappear
only to be found
by the one who has enough time
and enough want
to actually search for me?

some days i despise
having this weak, old, ratty heart
that is attached to the tip of my finger,
not even the sleeves—
and slips itself
into the pocket of anyone
who so much as breathes

do not despise the love i feel
(even though doing the gulp of acceptance
is like drinking lemon
straight from the pet it's found in.)

Crush are the sounds of my heart—
When you are tearing it apart.


Crush are the sounds of my tear—
When you are not being near.


Crush are the sounds of my voice—
When you said I am here just to fill the void.


How could you love me?
Is this just an act of kindness?
When someone who should love me
Only love me if I am being good enough for them?


Am I good enough for your love?
Am I worth your love, time, and kindness?

Darling I—


Who are you?
How could you love me?
Someone that broken beyond repair?


Can you see it now?
The despair I hold on to myself
Like the sound of someone crush the wildflower beneath their foot with hatred.


Crush

Oh, there she goes again, stopping by your heart
It's not long till you'll want another start
The pain resides within you, you try to get away
But how can you, when your soul is saying "stay"?

You know it's wrong, it'll end badly
But she's got you on a hook wrapped around so tightly

How do you remove someone from your life in vain
If every stone from your path shouts their name.
It's like a parasite, an illness without a cure
So you try and try again just to be sure

I can't compete with her, no I wouldn't dare
For your eyes draw a love that doesn't compare,
But if I did, would I be the winner in such fight?
Or would I be the villain, two crossed out words in this path that feels "just right"?

Do I let that invisible string intertwine my brains
And feel the pain linger as it flows through my veins?
No,
The door is halfway open, window's completely gone,
I try and try again but for the love of god I can't move on

Compared your acne to constellations in the sky
The sun and moon to the gleam inside your eyes
So during every sunset, every night
I was always mesmerized, just looking at the light

Every laughter, every game, every joke you'd make
I cherished it cause I felt like it'd be the last memory I get to take
Never really asked myself why
But in a way, I wanted you to be mine

The eyes, the hair, the love is out of sight
Yet they reach my mind in the middle of the nigh
You say you like me, but not in the way that I want you to
I keep on waiting and waiting, oh what else am I to do?

So here I end my poem, but with a lot more to say
My kindest regards, to the one that got away.

It's a feeling that I can never
put my finger on,
to seize its power with a name.
It's that slight rhythmic delay
in conversations on the phone,
the footfall of our voices
constantly just out of step.
Moments that are almost inconsequential,
but I keep picking at them
in my mind
like the loose skin of a hangnail.
Thumbing at the thoughts
in a way you tell yourself is harmless.
Just a bit more...
Only in an instant, it's all irrevocably undone.
It's that bitter stone of doubt in your chest
when there's a full stop instead of an "x".
You can't help circling back
to that seed planted in your mind
earlier than you can ever remember,
that it's you - fundamentally,
objectively, intrinsically.
Against your own better judgement,
it's so easy to sink into the ruminations
of inadequacy and psychological self-flagellation.
How many more times must you feel this way?
It's so familiar that you can almost detach.
That every time you feel that sparkle of
human connection, of being wanted for a moment,
it's already waiting for you.
You already know it's inevitable.