No more words. You’re right, it’s enough
Of mussy clusters of meaningless phrases.
All thoughts are chilled and are wrapped in pain.
It’s not an interesting story for us.

Colors have faded, cleaned out with time.
The beauty’s become decrepit in whole.
The past has been a depressing burthen.
An emptiness’s hanged over us in full.

There’re no more words.
Feelings are rootless.
We’re free of each other.
Our love is bootless.

I don’t really like who I am when I’m next to my friends,
I feel someone else every time I close the living room door in my apartment.

My mom’s at home.
I can’t recognize how I act when I’m living with my family,
If I lock the bathroom door, I feel myself now.

How can I be someone else when I’m still the person I am in any situation?
How can I feel myself when I’m alone if that means no one’s watching?
Does it mean no one is ever gonna know who I am?

Who will I be when I meet someone new?
Who will talk about me with sureness?

I still lock the doors of any room I’m in.

I went on a walk,
I found a tree,
In its branches,
Was your face staring back at me.
I began to cry,
I couldn’t stop,
It made me realize how much I miss you,
Since you’re gone.
I know it’s been years,
But it still burns,
I find myself shedding tears,
As the world continues to turn.
I still hear your voice,
Playing on repeat,
In my head,
In a desperate plea,
To convince myself,
With a placebo,
That perhaps,
You didn’t leave us alone.
But it’s getting faint,
As I forget,
How your voice once sounded,
But I don’t want to lose you yet.
How can I move on,
From someone,
Who touched my heart,
Now that you’re gone?

i always tried to do the most with my time,
not anything productive- just something fun,
entertaining,
to cover up the fact that i’m mourning someone who still walks this earth.

my concept of “happiness” isn’t the usual one,
it might be rather depressing for some.
i think i wanted to say so many things, but said none.

living in eternal doom has become normal,
elders telling me to dress more formal,
acting like i’m just a doormat.

Is the villain just,
A broken, bleeding, hurting,
Human, or not?

Perhaps their pain is,
Justified. But does it clear,
Their slate, leaving crumbs?

Do they feel remorse?
Do they feel any regret, or
Are they too broken?

Listen to their tale,
You do not have to agree.
Show them empathy.

Like yin and yang,
Opposites attract,
The sadist and the *******,
Could attest to that.
Though their relationship was uncertain,
There was one fact,
He’d never raise a hand to her,
No, he’d never hit her back.

She let out all of her pain,
As she relished in his.
She hoped that he would fight back,
That was her one wish.

He cried out in pain,
As he took each of her kicks,
Feeling pleasure,
Though he was embarrassed to admit it.

The ******* had convinced his mind,
That he needed someone inside his life,
To break away his fleeting pride,
To break him down to where he wanted to die.
He never tried to run.
Why would he?
Who would be there to let his wife,
Blow off steam?
He took all of her blows,
Wiped the blood from his broken nose,
And deep down he knows,
He should get away, but he won’t.

She feels triumphant,
Her heart felt filled,
Laughing at the misery,
She never felt any guilt.
He hides his bruises,
Panting with relief,
As he covers his contusions,
Cursing the reprieve.

The sadist convinced her mind
That she just needed someone to hurt in her life,
Someone to satisfy,
Her parasitic urges before they killed her inside.
She never pushed him away.
Why would she?
Where would she let out her pain?
Who would bring her glee by hurting?
She punched and she beat,
Trying to blow off steam,
An attempt to retreat,
From the loss surrounding her feet.

One day, the sadist hit the *******,
After having beaten him around.
There was no scream, there was no cry,
Just a thump as he crashed onto the ground.
The sadist dropped the hammer,
And hid her mouth behind her hands,
Thinking she killed the love of her life.
The previous pleasure,
Faded to more pain,
As she cried and sobbed,
His blood left a nasty stain.

She called the police,
And turned herself in,
They took him away in an ambulance,
As she was in cuffs.
She felt no peace,
Her heart now broken,
Their fractured romance,
Was never enough.

But the ******* wasn’t dead,
And awoke months later in a hospital bed.
Paralyzed down from his neck,
He wouldn’t feel much of anything again.
While the sadist spent the rest of her days,
Locked in a cell, boiling with her pain.
She promised that if she ever got to see the light of day,
She’d go to the ******* and say,
How sorry she was, and she’d try to change.

Yin and yang,
Forever broken apart,
Though opposites may attract,
They can also shatter and leave scars.
The relationship,
Long gone,
But does anybody,
Win in the end?
No,
Nobody does.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own.

It happened rather fast,
A single moment passed.
A new transfer student,
Felt that he needed to be included.
He didn’t want to be alone,
So he found the nearest friend group,
And hoped they’d take him as their own.

He walked to the group,
Who were trapped in their coops,
Scrolling through their tombs,
Not having anything to say.
Fern cleared his throat,
His anxiety was flying high.
As he stuttered,
“H-h-hi-hi.”

The group was surprised, someone new had bothered,
To approach them,
Especially someone so nervous.
They pondered,
What his ulterior motive was,
As they looked him up and down.
Fern frowned.
Were they judging him?
His hands shook,
As sweat trickled to the ground.
Eventually, Jack got up,
Took his hand and shook it.
“I’m Jack!”
The moment,
That Jack wished he could take back.

Freshman year went on,
And nothing consequential changed.
Fern grew closer to the group,
As life kept turning the pages,
Of their stories,
Growing closer to the heartbreaking ending.

Sophomore year began,
And Jack noticed that things felt off,
Not oppressive,
But enough that he wanted it to stop.
Fern brought another friend along,
And Jack found himself sitting alone,
Fern’s friend just seemed more interesting,
Than Jack ever was.
Jack’s friends used to talk to him,
Then they didn’t.
Jack figured out right away,
That this was how it felt to be replaced.

So Jack went out of his way,
To avoid his “friends” every day.
If they didn’t care,
He wouldn’t let it tear down his sails.
It hurt,
But he knew he’d heal.
He’d leave them behind,
Clawing at his heels.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own,
And that was okay!