In the echoes of love untold,
The very heart I kept her hold,
Burned and ripped apart, my soul,
I shall sit and request my tears to fold.

She's not coming back, I know, I do,
I choose waiting, that's surely true,
The love I once had, so divine,
Oh, I'm dying to call her, "MINE".

I didn't start the war.
I swear it wasn't me!
I was sitting in my bedroom
listening to music and drinking tea.

I have no reason to fight,
to **** or retaliate.
I despise violence.
And I also meditate.

I don't follow the news,
I'd say they rather follow me.
That is my only crime,
that I feel for the killed.

And yes, I cried when I saw
a woman holding her dead child,
her eyes were red from scream
to the silence of the sky.

Yes, I cried when I saw it,
I couldn't stop my tears.
That is my only crime,
that I feel for the killed.

I was sinking to the bottom of the ocean
I hoped you hadn't pushed me
I looked at you with tears in my eyes
I hoped you didn't see

I was waiting for you
Waiting for you to return
I was waiting for you to call
I hope one day I'll learn

I saw you choose your friends over me
But did I cross the line?
And I saw blood on your hands
I just hoped it wasn't mine

I fall in love, like it’s a dare.
No helmet, no warning,
like being in the middle of nowhere,
when it starts pouring.

My hollow heart, unprotected,
waits to be washed away
with echoes of the silence,
that grow too heavy, until they strain.

The flood begins within,
soaking through skin, through veins,
tainted by you, to my core,
with a weight I was never built to bear.
The water rises, inch by inch,
but I don’t gasp.
I’m prepared.

I drown quietly, without struggle,
as if this ache has earned its place.
The tide carves out my ruins,
leaving nothing, but empty space.

And maybe that’s the mercy —
not the saving, but the cease.
When the water stills inside me,
there’s a moment of release.

"I killed someone"
I cried
The Dreamer
The Wanderer
The one whose imagination
Rivals that of the Gods
I never meant to
I just wanted more control
Being a dreamer as it downsides
Determined to be disciplined
I trained
But in reality
I was killing my creativity
It happened so suddenly
Is what I tell myself
But I felt her dieing
Saw all the warnings
But I never fought for her
I watched as she slipped away
Tears stained her flawless face
"I forgive you"
She uttered
At that moment
Something died within me
Irreplaceable,
It can never be revived
My Muse is forever dead
And I eternally locked from it domain

I'll sneak away at night
when the world is fast asleep
as your breath rises and falls, deep and slow
as the stars dance in the sky under their mother the moon
hidden by the light from the street lamps

I'll quietly slip from my warm bed
shocked by the chilling air as I peel back the covers
and I'll tip-toe past your bedroom
and put on my shoes
and leave my tear-stained letter on the kitchen table

you won't even notice as I leave
as I creep open the front door hesitantly
as my feet drag me out to the bus stop
and I wonder if it's too late to turn back

when the bus brings me to my stop
and I walk towards the bridge
my heart won't stop racing
I wonder if this really is my fate
as I near the ledge

I shut my eyes and envision you
still drifting away in the land of dreams
sleeping peacefully in my absence
I get closer to the ledge

you won't even notice I'm gone
your chest will still rise and fall
your dreams will continue to play
the stars will continue to dance under their mother moon
and the street lamps will shine until the morning
and when the morning comes
and the sun rises out of its bed
and the moon and her children leave for the day
and your dreams finally come to an end
please don't miss me

I cry for countless things
For birds with broken wings
For toys left by growing kids
For discarded wedding rings

I cry for characters on screen
Personas I've never truly seen
Whose stories echo familiar
With wisdom that I might glean

I cry for broken hearts
For unsuccessful starts
For fields of wildflowers
That are staked then ripped apart

I cry for rivers that can't be crossed
I cry for things not yet lost
And even within remarkable love
I cry, knowing what love will cost

I have a friend who cries
For rose-tinted skies
For the first looks given
From a newborn babies eyes

She cries for happy endings
And noble, generous spending
She cries for torn friendships
That are slowly but surely mending

She cries from staggering laughter
Or jumbled kitchen disasters
Or while attempting obscure talents
That we both know she never will master

I think it's something special
To have tears so freely deployed
At the sight of heartbreak and beauty alike
What a gift, to cry for joy.

What I see in her brings tears to my eyes
I crave that untethered jubilee
And in my longing, I realize
The beginnings of it in me

I know a lot of things.
I know that at night, the shadow of the door
on the roof,
can either look like Patrick Star,
or the grim reaper.
Take your pick.

I also know that if you’re loud enough,
you can be quiet enough when you disappear,
and no one knows where you are.
Or maybe they’re so annoyed with you,
that they don’t care.

I know that if you look in the mirror too long,
you'll find yourself turning from side-to-side,
rating every part of your body out of ten,
and you will find that you
hardly ever get higher than a seven.

I know that if you bury yourself
deep enough in something,
the rest of the world will hurt less.
But a forewarning-
This doesn’t always work,
sometimes it hurts more.

I know that if you have a good enough poker face,
Blackjack is actually pretty easy
(when you aren't playing against your father).
And I also know that poker faces
are more important than you might think.

I know that if your throat gets a lump,
you can swallow it down,
but once your nose starts to tingle,
9 times out of 10, you’re going to cry,
and you won't look pretty while you do it.

I know that if you close your eyes,
you can wish away a lot of things,
and make up a lot of things,
but when you open your eyes,
your wishes didn’t come true,
and your dreams aren’t real.

I know if you give someone a part of yourself,
and they leave you,
you’ll spend the rest of your life
trying to get it back
but you never will.

I know a lot of things.

We pass each other in the hallways like strangers.
You look in my eyes, I look in yours—
We speak without words,
Because eyes say more than lips ever could.

Passing by you feels like passing a stranger...
But strangers don’t know—
your name,
your laugh,
your smile,
your birthday,
your class,
your eyes.
But now, you act like you never knew me at all.
I tell myself:
It’s done.
What’s done is done.
Maybe we weren’t meant to know each other.
But even after all that...
I still miss you.