The eyes that watch me sink
In the abyss of her careless words
Wrapped like treasure in a poor man’s rag
They wait to know more
The hearts that feel me
Read waves of my silence
Painted on a lifeline
Fading at six beats per minute
I still wear my heart like a sail
And my soul as an anchor
In brave moments
When your ghost appears
Intruding a dim lit home
Why it is that someone has to die the death called ‘life’ for someone else to live?
Why are honest hearts left behind, lighting cigarettes like incense, reminiscing a promise unfulfilled?
How am I, again, the source of the fountain of your smile so unreal?
Why do I still burn in flames and you still fail to feel?
Who are we if not a tragedy like stars in the night skies daily choking on our human skins?
What this is is nothing but the cremation of your nicotine loaded handwritten sins.
I should spit your souvenirs goodbye
Saved in a pile of past
I keep trying to forget
But the memory is a compass
Guiding me through your pride
Keeping my scarred skin