I’ll Hold You

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Why didn’t you come?

I said I’d wait for you.

No matter how long I had to,

But I would.

And I know for sure,

That if not days,

If not months,

You would come by years later 

But you would.

But, you stomped on my trust and faith in you.

In time and in love.

You showed me a dusty mirror.

Which was squeaky clean with a promise of fruitful longing.


My love,

I ask of you.

Every time I offer you my hand, 

My hand is a tree.

A tree,

With branches for fingers.

Fingers that are lush

And fragrant of care and love.

Bloom, will flowers.

Once they feel you warmth.

Grab onto any one of them

I’ll make it the highest branch.

The branch which takes you closer to the sun, 

To all the warmth it has to offer.



Your Pain


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Do we have to compare our pain?

To the crushing rocks

To the bitter draughts

To the silent skies

And frozen nights,

If you can’t put it in words,

Your diary lies shattered,

Pages torn mercilessly

Taking up the pain of your wordless anguish.

Do you think?

He will understand.


She will?

No, honey.

They won’t.

They won’t get how you scream, only internally.

They won’t get the ripped canvas your soul has become.

They will try to bring back the colours,

But they don’t know which ones you lost.

The red of love, the yellow of friendship, the whites of peace.

It’s you, darling.

It was, is and always will be you.

Only you can understand you,

Only you, can heal you.