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The broken worlds we hide inside; that’s how we start to die!

Odd Ken

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

Beg Cry Missing Name Water Yourself
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
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 can sing love; only I’m afraid the lyrics might get shattered again.
ODD KEN

Afraid Love Lyrics Myself Sing
These sharp edges you left behind, they cut so deep; and I guess maybe I am just not dying enough.
ODD KEN

Death Deep Edge Enough Hurt Myself
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
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
If ever the fall is the ground, someone tell her I’m this close to soil, and I can feel it!
ODD KEN

Fall Feeling Ground Myself
Sometimes even in pain we smile to the world until we think we’re dying.
ODD KEN

Death Pain Smile Thinking World
It is my dying wish to travel around the world; to feel this hurt in a slightly different way!
ODD KEN

Around Death Different Feeling Hurt Myself Travel Way World
To me there was only ever you!
ODD KEN

Love Myself One Liner Relationship Yourself
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
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
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
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!

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The broken worlds we hide inside; that’s how we start to die!

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