black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

Sorry to a heavy heart in the morning; sorry to waking up and being yourself the only reason to cry.
ODD KEN

Cry Heart heavy Morning Reason Sorry Wake Up Yourself
And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.
ODD KEN

Bone Cold Feeling Herself Myself Winter
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
Give everything some time; pain hasn’t learn to walk yet.
ODD KEN

Learning Pain Philosophy Time Walk
I held my breath underwater and felt surrender in my lungs; maybe this too counts as love.
ODD KEN

Breathe Count Love Myself Surrender
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
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
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
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
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
Most days missing her is my only choice between death and dying.
ODD KEN

Choice Death Herself Missing Myself
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
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
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
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
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

I guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.

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I guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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