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I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.

Odd Ken

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

Break Death Hide Start World
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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 KEN

Drown End Home Love Myself Ocean Salt Yourself
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
Please the night’s cold, not her name again!
ODD KEN

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

Body Laughter Leaving Pain Stand Weakness
And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.
ODD KEN

Bone Cold Feeling Herself Myself Winter
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
Sometimes even in pain we smile to the world until we think we’re dying.
ODD KEN

Death Pain Smile Thinking World
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.

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I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.

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