And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.
ODD KENSometimes even in pain we smile to the world until we think we’re dying.
More Odd Ken Quotes
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I guess there’s so much in your absence that kills my soul from the burning wood to ash.
ODD KEN -
To heal is to be constantly reminded that once you learn to punch, you die with blood on your wrist.
ODD KEN -
I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.
ODD KEN -
I can feel the dust of her skin in my skin; and I think maybe that means these bones of mine have grown weary of crying too.
ODD KEN -
Like her name, some people are best left scrouged on the skin.
ODD KEN -
In the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.
ODD KEN -
Sometimes even in pain we smile to the world until we think we’re dying.
ODD KEN -
I forget how our story started; but these days I’m finding the missing pieces behind every exhale, where I left the words standing with sore feet.
ODD KEN -
Like a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.
ODD KEN -
I’ve been quiet most of today. By which I mean I can see myself in the mirror; And believe me it is something hard to look at these days.
ODD KEN -
The broken worlds we hide inside; that’s how we start to die!
ODD KEN -
I’ve been to the countryside a couple of times. Somedays it is all wood and grass and empty. Other days it feels like you!
ODD KEN -
I can sing love; only I’m afraid the lyrics might get shattered again.
ODD KEN -
What if love has always been the quench and the fire? or perhaps all we need to lose to find all we need to have?
ODD KEN -
Pain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KEN -
To me there was only ever you!
ODD KEN -
This ‘missing you’ It begs for water; it cries your name.
ODD KEN -
Most days missing her is my only choice between death and dying.
ODD KEN -
Sorry to a heavy heart in the morning; sorry to waking up and being yourself the only reason to cry.
ODD KEN -
All through the depression, I was the soft toy in the hands of a baby with sharp teeth.
ODD KEN -
If ever the fall is the ground, someone tell her I’m this close to soil, and I can feel it!
ODD KEN -
Somedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!
ODD KEN -
After healing I’ll run back to her – of course this poem demands a brutal ending!
ODD KEN -
You’re gone. And I think I’m only trying to mean a lot to myself too.
ODD KEN -
No one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KEN -
There’s not much I know about forgetting. By which I mean I can hear her name from a distance; and it still breathes cold in my chest.
ODD KEN