In the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.
ODD KENIn the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.
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 KENPlease the night’s cold, not her name again!
ODD KENJust as it demands blood, to meet bone, It’ll forever take something painful to understand pain.
ODD KENWhat 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 KENI swear I love her so much that somedays I can’t quite tell if I’m just a good liar.
ODD KENI’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 KENI 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 KENYou’re gone. And I think I’m only trying to mean a lot to myself too.
ODD KENToday 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 KENNo one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KENI 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 KENPain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KENIf ever the fall is the ground, someone tell her I’m this close to soil, and I can feel it!
ODD KENIn the end not every bleeding thing dies; at least, not like a paper plays in fire.
ODD KENTo me there was only ever you!
ODD KEN