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

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 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
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
What 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 KEN

Fire Lose Love Need Philosophy
Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.
ODD KEN

Mistook Myself Pain Progress Work
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
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
I held my breath underwater and felt surrender in my lungs; maybe this too counts as love.
ODD KEN

Breathe Count Love Myself Surrender
Often times the language is different; by which I mean, I love her, and it’s the only stammer I’ve ever known.
ODD KEN

Different Language Love Myself Time
There’s not much I know about forgetting. By which I mean I can hear her name from a distance; and it still breathes cold in my chest.
ODD KEN

Breathe Cold Distance Forget Herself Myself Name
I can feel the dust of her skin in my skin; and I think maybe that means these bones of mine have grown weary of crying too.
ODD KEN

Break Up Cry Feeling Growth Myself Skin Thinking
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
All through the depression, I was the soft toy in the hands of a baby with sharp teeth.
ODD KEN

Children Depression Hands Myself Soft
I don’t think the world is ever getting better; I guess maybe people just find new ways to hide what kills them.
ODD KEN

Hide Kill Myself People Thinking Way World
Pain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.
ODD KEN

Body Laughter Leaving Pain Stand Weakness
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

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.

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Popular Authors

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