Respect pain. Every heartfelt word is first born from sadness.
ODD KENRespect pain. Every heartfelt word is first born from sadness.
ODD KENPain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KENSomedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!
ODD KENTo me there was only ever you!
ODD KENAfter healing I’ll run back to her – of course this poem demands a brutal ending!
ODD KENThere’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 KENWhat 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 KENBreathe in the pain and bring out the wounds. It’s only a process and you’ll learn to survive the rest.
ODD KENNo one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KENJust as it demands blood, to meet bone, It’ll forever take something painful to understand pain.
ODD KENLike a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.
ODD KENThere’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.
ODD KENI guess you’re the bee and the stings all at once; By which I mean you’re the reason I wrap these tired bones around every aching thing.
ODD KENI guess there’s so much in your absence that kills my soul from the burning wood to ash.
ODD KENIn the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.
ODD KENI’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