black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Odd Ken

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

Death Pain Smile Thinking World
Respect pain. Every heartfelt word is first born from sadness.
ODD KEN

Born Pain Respect Sadness
Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.
ODD KEN

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

Cold Herself Name Night
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
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
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’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 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

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

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There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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