black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.

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
I guess we all understand the love language fine; but maybe truth is we’re just too fluent in goodbyes.
ODD KEN

End Goodbye Language Love Myself Truth Understand
I’m a drunk poet; and I guess maybe I sipped too much of what I couldn’t buy of her.
ODD KEN

Break Up Buy Drink Herself Myself Poet Relationship
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 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
And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.
ODD KEN

Bone Cold Feeling Herself Myself Winter
No one thing stays the same after a goodbye.
ODD KEN

Change Goodbye Stay
Love 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 KEN

Death Equality Feeling Job Love Man Side Taste
I guess there’s so much in your absence that kills my soul from the burning wood to ash.
ODD KEN

Absence Burn Kill Myself Soul 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
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
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
Give everything some time; pain hasn’t learn to walk yet.
ODD KEN

Learning Pain Philosophy Time Walk
Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.
ODD KEN

Mistook Myself Pain Progress Work
Please the night’s cold, not her name again!
ODD KEN

Cold Herself Name Night
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

And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.

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And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.

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