black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Most days missing her is my only choice between death and dying.

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
Respect pain. Every heartfelt word is first born from sadness.
ODD KEN

Born Pain Respect Sadness
Like her name, some people are best left scrouged on the skin.
ODD KEN

Herself Name People Skin
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
Pain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KEN

Body Laughter Leaving Pain Stand Weakness
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
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
Breathe in the pain and bring out the wounds. It’s only a process and you’ll learn to survive the rest.
ODD KEN

Breathe Learning Pain Rest Survive Wound Yourself
Just as it demands blood, to meet bone, It’ll forever take something painful to understand pain.
ODD KEN

Blood Demand Forever Painful Philosophy Understand Wisdom
Either the jump or the drown, loving her has always readied me for the fire.
ODD KEN

Drown Fire Herself Love Myself Preparation
This ‘missing you’ It begs for water; it cries your name.
ODD KEN

Beg Cry Missing Name Water Yourself
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
Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.
ODD KEN

Mistook Myself Pain Progress Work
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 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

Most days missing her is my only choice between death and dying.

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Most days missing her is my only choice between death and dying.

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