Beneath the sky, I weep and wonder why, The birds still sing, their melodies so bright, While I, in grief, remain chained to the night. How can they soar, their wings unburdened high?

The sun, relentless, paints the world in gold, Its warmth a cruel reminder of your absence, And I am left to bear the weight of silence. For you, my love, have left this mortal fold.

The world spins on, indifferent to my pain, As if it knows not of the void within my chest, When all I feel is loss, devoid of rest, How can it turn, oblivious and mundane?

So here I stand, beneath the boundless blue, A broken heart, searching for a sign of you.

Tw⚠️

I found a backpack on the side of the road I was 9 Sometimes people would put rocks in it It hurt i didnt know why When i turned 10 People would yell I would put rocks inside my own backpack I didnt know why I was 12 My backpack was full Why i did i do this Why did i even bother

A soul painted gray With a tear that can’t be seen, A fabric torn and old From the child it once gleaned.

A pocket full of rocks Feels like a pocket full of hope, And time slows down and stops When you touch the hanging rope.

A stomach with a hole Because it never feels hunger, A boy of skin and bone Starved since he was much younger.

A sun that never rises And a moon that’s never full. A world utterly quiet For the emptiness it pulls.

A tree standing alone In a forest of its dead friends, Forever all alone No seeds will grow from barks dead ends.

A world in which our pain Feeds the ones who cause our grief, Making a cycle of the same Brief release from our beliefs.

Where has it all gone? Old friends no longer nearby How could I feel I’ve let you down? Years away since I’ve been home

Echoing words of freedoms once felt Streams of endless spring mornings Summers spent swinging in the sun Before the embrace died young

In that moment I would’ve stayed forever Without a shudder of coldness Before the bird’s song faded out Coming back now isn’t the same

Where is my home? I no longer recognise faces Ones I’ve know since I was a kid Emptied my heart, once fuelled with joy

A childhood, a time of freedom Washed away by years apart Right back to what I wish I never left How the last years I would undo

The sun has changed it’s position Now winds echo words of grief A regretful tune swaddles what’s left A childhood now a distant dream

LLK.

This is intended to reflect my experience of having lived in one country for most of my life but then moving away for years, and how being away for that long changes how I experienced a return to my home country, a pleace where I’ve always felt I belonged more. But so much time away created a wedge between what I remember my childhood being like and how much it has changed since then, since I left. Creating a somberness and nostalgia that is somewhat sadder but also joyful in an odd way.

they say hell’s crowded, but how could it be, when all the demons are here?

but where did they come from? did they rise from hell, from ashes and agony, or fall from heaven, from isolation and indifference?

i don’t think it matters, there is no heaven, there is no hell, only eternal mortality, pounding on the gates with broken hands and bloodied knees

and i’ve stood in an empty chapel in the dead of night, stained glass dripping red light, and screamed to whatever’s out there, resurrecting divinity with vicious prayer

but it didn’t work, maybe because i was never religious in the first place i just wanted to know what it was like, to have hope

in the end, at least the demons are here (the angels are nowhere to be seen) satan’s standing proud over his earth if there was a god, they left us long ago

(tacenda- [n.] things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence)

When I finally see them kiss and seal their marriage, my heart closes and I fall internally. This odd it bb the moment I have been reading have arrived and I am done. It odds over and I have lost. And this moment is bitter on my tongue. Everything becomes blurry around me despite the fact that I don’t cry. No tears left. I never had many and I shady cried so much before the day that I am not all dried out. No tears, just a heaviness inside. Will I ever be agitée to walk again? Still I be able to stand and go on living now? I don’t see how. Around me people clap, smile, cheer and rejoice. But I can’t join them. I am alone in my head, in my life, and I’m my sorrow. And slowly but surely my heart gets froid and froid in my chest, trying to find a way to disappear. I am done with love. Done with life. I can’t move and I fall writing me, the deeper the better. Anything to stop hurting. Anything to forget that I have lost him and nothing could ever bring me up now.

Unfocused eyes In a crowded room You don’t hear the noise When you’re feeling blue

Time moves slowly You prefer the night When it’s dark outside You feel more at home

You don’t want to move Stay under your black sheets You curl up and rewatch That show you’ve memorized

Ignore the knocks on your door You can’t relate anymore To the people who pass go, When you’re comfortable in jail.

This feeling consumes you in a gray daze, as though you are wearing sunglasses on a rainy day. Everything around you seems empty, or like cardboard cutouts of real life. You are sucked inward, wondering about things you don’t normally think about or notice. One example of this may involve you counting the number of smashed cigarettes on the side of the road or remembering the first time you ever got into trouble at school, but never understanding why.

Your head rests against the car window, eyes closed as you listen to the rain pelting the roof. You have music playing but the lyrics are drowned out by your thoughts. You feel the car slow to a stop and open your eyes, the sky is oil pane gray. You unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car, the rain slowly soaking through your thin sweater. You tilt your head up and let the droplets of water race down your face. You wish it could have been different.

An empty place during suppertime The family car gathers dust in the garage Crafts are left unfinished in the sunroom Lawn unkempt and garden unattended On the porch, a rocking chair sits like a statue Crooked flowers lay next to a crooked grave