In the end not every bleeding thing dies; at least, not like a paper plays in fire.
ODD KENIn the end not every bleeding thing dies; at least, not like a paper plays in fire.
ODD KENIt is my dying wish to travel around the world; to feel this hurt in a slightly different way!
ODD KENI can sing love; only I’m afraid the lyrics might get shattered again.
ODD KENLike a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.
ODD KENEither the jump or the drown, loving her has always readied me for the fire.
ODD KENI swear I love her so much that somedays I can’t quite tell if I’m just a good liar.
ODD KENLove 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 KENSomedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!
ODD KENI’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 KENI don’t think the world is ever getting better; I guess maybe people just find new ways to hide what kills them.
ODD KENI guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.
ODD KENThese sharp edges you left behind, they cut so deep; and I guess maybe I am just not dying enough.
ODD KENOften times the language is different; by which I mean, I love her, and it’s the only stammer I’ve ever known.
ODD KENSorry to a heavy heart in the morning; sorry to waking up and being yourself the only reason to cry.
ODD KENNo one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KENThis ‘missing you’ It begs for water; it cries your name.
ODD KEN