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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

Maybe water is not entirely lost when soaked into sand. Maybe it finds a better resting place to call home; and I hope she did too.
ODD KEN

Better Herself Home Hope Lost Place Rest Water
To me there was only ever you!
ODD KEN

Love Myself One Liner Relationship Yourself
Often times the language is different; by which I mean, I love her, and it’s the only stammer I’ve ever known.
ODD KEN

Different Language Love Myself Time
The broken worlds we hide inside; that’s how we start to die!
ODD KEN

Break Death Hide Start World
Today I can see the cracks on the wall they’re visible; but I can tell they are finding their way to soil, And so am I.
ODD KEN

Myself See Wall
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
This ‘missing you’ It begs for water; it cries your name.
ODD KEN

Beg Cry Missing Name Water Yourself
Either the jump or the drown, loving her has always readied me for the fire.
ODD KEN

Drown Fire Herself Love Myself Preparation
No one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KEN

Change Goodbye Stay
I’ve seen it, I know it too; love still dances in the fire after the rescue.
ODD KEN

Dance Fire Love Myself Rescue See
I guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.
ODD KEN

Burn Confusion Love Myself Possible Thinking Wrong
I 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 KEN

Bone Heart Broken Myself Reason Tired Yourself
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
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
There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.
ODD KEN

Battle Burn Healing Ink
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

Country Feeling Forest Place Time Yourself
When I say I love you, I mean something raw something below the surface of all waters; something almost too naked and true!
ODD KEN

I Love You Myself Naked Surface True Water
Pain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KEN

Body Laughter Leaving Pain Stand Weakness
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 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
I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.
ODD KEN

Born Break Up Leaving Myself Poet Yourself
Give everything some time; pain hasn’t learn to walk yet.
ODD KEN

Learning Pain Philosophy Time Walk
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
And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.
ODD KEN

Bone Cold Feeling Herself Myself Winter
Sorry to a heavy heart in the morning; sorry to waking up and being yourself the only reason to cry.
ODD KEN

Cry Heart heavy Morning Reason Sorry Wake Up Yourself
Please the night’s cold, not her name again!
ODD KEN

Cold Herself Name Night
You’re gone. And I think I’m only trying to mean a lot to myself too.
ODD KEN

Break Up Myself Thinking Try

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.

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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.

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Popular Authors

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