“The sky was crying so I wiped away her tears, just like all the times she did the same me.”

Each night I sit at my windowsill like a wolf howling to the moon, hoping that somewhere you feel me calling to you.

Leave me like you mean it. My heart can’t keep waiting for you.

The future belongs to those who are brave enough to speak up about things that matter.

I think I’ll always remember your birthday and the way you took your coffee because they’ll forever be pieces of you I cannot burn.

We all show our true colors eventually – mine is dark and firesome red. I bet I burned you. I don’t expect to see you soon.

Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.

The sun touched your skin with innocent delicacy as if you were a work of out that was made to be admired deeply.

Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

I woke up this morning and for once, I had no desire to drink my morning coffee. Is that how it felt for you to wake up and never return?

In a dream like haze, the moment you left still spins on repeat like a broken record.

I hope you think of me during every thunderstorm.

You don’t deserve my poetry. I hate that I give you that satisfaction still.

Your name still tastes like poison in my mouth.

Soft and sweet and wrapped around your fingertips.

I have so much love to give even with these daggers still stuck in my heart.

I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.