black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Odd Ken

In the end not every bleeding thing dies; at least, not like a paper plays in fire.
ODD KEN

Blood Death End Fire Paper Play
No one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KEN

Change Goodbye Stay
I guess we all understand the love language fine; but maybe truth is we’re just too fluent in goodbyes.
ODD KEN

End Goodbye Language Love Myself Truth Understand
I swear I love her so much that somedays I can’t quite tell if I’m just a good liar.
ODD KEN

Goodness Herself Love Lying Myself Quite Talk
To heal is to be constantly reminded that once you learn to punch, you die with blood on your wrist.
ODD KEN

Blood Death Hands Healing Learning Wisdom Yourself
Sometimes even in pain we smile to the world until we think we’re dying.
ODD KEN

Death Pain Smile Thinking World
Pain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KEN

Body Laughter Leaving Pain Stand Weakness
Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.
ODD KEN

Mistook Myself Pain Progress Work
I don’t think the world is ever getting better; I guess maybe people just find new ways to hide what kills them.
ODD KEN

Hide Kill Myself People Thinking Way World
Somedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!
ODD KEN

Art Break Depression Enough Herself Hurting Myself
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

Forget Missing Myself Pieces Stand Start Story
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

Fire Lose Love Need Philosophy
Love is a job doer and a man slayer. Both equally efficient, until the taste of it is most felt on the cold side of the ribs.
ODD KEN

Death Equality Feeling Job Love Man Side Taste
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

Break Up Cry Feeling Growth Myself Skin Thinking
If ever the fall is the ground, someone tell her I’m this close to soil, and I can feel it!
ODD KEN

Fall Feeling Ground Myself
After healing I’ll run back to her – of course this poem demands a brutal ending!
ODD KEN

Brutal Demand End Healing Myself Poem Run

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

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There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Odd Ken Quotes