Rose Tissues for Erianal?

I

Can’t

Explain.

That’s

The

Saddest

Bit.

A

Shotgun

In

Front

Of me

And the bullet

Moves with the tempo of the piano

Fortissimo

Pianissimo

It becomes soft and quiet

The screeching sounds of pain

Soften.

Andante

My thoughts pace about

Like my fingers

When you held them.

Dotted Crotchets

That’s how my heart beats

One-and-a-half

Beats

Of some pain

Unavoidably identifiable

Or is it me?

Am I me?

Jealousy

Anger

Frustration

Isolation

This emptiness I feel

00:01                                                                              i think it’s a desire to want

or a need to see you

at this childish hour

i can finally write

i think it’s over

0051

but sometimes i think but can’t feel

and sometimes i look and don’t understand

some things are  dying to be written about

but:

human’s ignorance or the ignorance of man,

leaves them unwritten(not unforgotten)

 

i shall not write about those i care too much of

because i realized it is after i flood my paper with ink;

after the trees are tortured with the screeching sound of metal chainsaws

after my ink is diluted with a colour i like to taste

that we become strangers.

like the objects are strangers to us.