You are nowhere to be found, this time doesn't seem to end soon.
I'm clinging to voice notes and images to write poems and dedicate songs but is that all we have now ?
Will I ever be able to tell you, how I thought the world would end. Not this way.
I wish this home belonged to us and I could tell you how I'm not really the bad guy.
It's them. It was always them
They say you get love in a snapshot only once in a life but for how long.
Is only pain and grief long lasting and else everything a photograph ?
I don't have our photograph printed. I thought we'd live to make a memory album, with moving pictures of you, narrating a self deprecating joke after a breakdown.
Your sense of humour is mostly made of jokes on you. I nowadays wonder why only YOU were the Joker in the room.
You're alone these days.
I've started noticing the sad undertones of your laughter on phone calls.
Is that why you prefer writing to me ?
How easy is it to lock your first so tight that you can't punch anyone when needed
Lock your fist so hard that you can't collect the love in the rain. Lock your first so hard, there's hardly any space for blood to flow .Lock your first so tight, that you don't let anyone enter. Will you let me enter ? you fear visibility, you fear company, you fear love ?
Humans don't generally live as puzzles
You're not that smart to become a game.
But who made you a puzzle ? ,Who made me a puzzle ?
I wish I were a part you are looking for.
I'm an odd piece myself, I don't think I'd fit anywhere.
So I'm here, with you.
We're not at peace. We're writing poems in a tornado and normalising the tornado.
Can you breathe here ?
How do you write poems about things that give you life and choke you to the death at the same time ?
It's easy to imagine you're surrounded by toxic poetry. Toxic but poetry.