Poetry

Nights are the worst,
they bring a thousand little memories.

Dance with hand in hand,
in the ashes of burned bridges,
pain & poetry.

Unspoken Love

The soul is hung upside down
And the heart doesn’t just pump blood anymore
Keep it to self or let this go ??
Pain gets discrete as the dilemma grows.

Holding hands in a silent storm.
talking through eyes with a secret code.
Too obvious to say anything,
too complicated to explain,
let understanding each other, be enough,
let’s just keep singing, down the road.

The Other Woman

I know a bit about her
It’s the details that I remember
that hurt the most
The dots which start with you
when traced
lead to her
It is knowing that hurts the most
That she has already entered your life when I was still there
I know a bit about her — the other woman
They say she is soft spoken,
a good person,
I heard you two cook together sometimes
shop together, hang out all the time and fuck each other obviously
But do you sleep hugging her softly, making sure she is close to you
like you used to do with me?
It is the answer to this question that hurts the most
cos I know a bit about her
but a lot about you.

Moved On

Does she know you as I do?
Can she make you laugh like I used to?
I am taking back the parts of me
that was left
still living somewhere
in those years of ‘us’
I am deleting the memory of how did my name sound when you said it
Now my soul is complete in itself
My eyes don’t wish for your presence
So I hope she is everything that you wanted but I couldn’t be
Our happiness is our choice they say
I hereby choose to stop loving you
& my dreams are the only thing
that I now pursue.

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