Is it better than indifference?

How does it feel to kill yourself from the inside
To hold your heart in your own first and tighten till the oxygen seeps out
The gulp when you realise it might be your last breath

Love is but a leash tightened around the neck of our souls capable of leading us to safety
But instead, we pull in the wrong direction
Leashes turn to nooses

I’m looking for you
Reaching for you
Calling out
But love has me standing on a stool
And every time you leave
it’s like my heart inches to kick the chair.

I should read more

My bookshelf much resembles my heart.
It’s filled with stories I had hoped to read and titles I have loved from afar.
I am always too busy to start a book. I’m always too afraid to read.
As if each page may reveal a part of me I was trying to pretend wasn’t real.

I’m made of plot twist and contradiction. I’m sometimes a heavy read.
My shelf has so many books I’m yet to complete
As if I’m hiding from knowing the end. I’m escaping the loss
Like friends, these pages have become to me.

I ‘ve never been good at goodbyes. I’m never good at endings.
I’m always avoiding the last page.
There are so many books I’d wished to never read
and yet they still managed to teach me the world.
My bookshelf resembles my heart.
Filling with Dust but as wide as the world
I need to read more.
I need to try love more

A melancholy heartbeat

It is beautiful even if it is sad,
Even if tears the seams of your heart
And causes tidal waves in your soul
It remains beautiful,
Like the sky when it rains
Or the ocean’s waves
It’s beautiful because it’s strong
It roars, it thunders, it cries, it destructs
It makes you feel
What is more beautiful than a heart beat,
irrespective of why it beats?