16/8/18

I fell in love.
Her name is Julie.
She has big eyes,
eyes that squint into a straight line when she smiles.
Her voice, her words smooth as jazz on a Tuesday night.
I love sleeping next to her.
She smells like flowers,
smells like the best dream ever.

We spoke different languages when things were tough
Emotions were bottled up and spilling
on every surface, every experience, every wound.
She screamed into eternal abyss with her silence
while I hurled words into nothingness like broken plates that shattered on old walls.

I take it back.
She did not speak at all.
She only spoke at the end.
Her words, caked with an underlying anger that only came with years of unresolved rage.
Pointed all her fingers at me and deemed me the culprit,
Said I was the one that stomped on the flowers that she planted
Said I was the one, the smudge in the printer that ruined the pretty photos

22/10/18
It's been more than two months.
I stopped staring at the grey head that once held your picture in my phone.
My thoughts are no longer for you, no longer you.
Dreams are just dreams, no longer a looping film of losing you.
Got a heart, ready to have your name on it.
Now all that's left is a plaque, missing the rest of your name after J.
Still got that knife wound in my chest.
You missed, got a piece of my heart but not all of it.
My poem was unfinished because I was hurt.
I didn't know how to finish it.
I think I don't think I want to finish it.
She has all my words, and you get none.