My poems

Her

I don't like the silence,
The defending sound that is a lack of sound fills my empty ears with more emptiness the blackened nothing filling it with hollow and defending me with quiet,

Just like I don't like being alone,
See it's ok if your used to it, go over a week without people and you'll be fine, it's like quitting coffee, go cold turkey and it'll pass,

But I can't handle the fear of people abandoning me like she did,
And I can't handle the solitude of my room much longer,

Because the walls in my room are stained with the memories of the people who have visited my life,

From the painting she gave to me the day she said 'I love you',

To the wax on my wall from the time she blew out my lavender scented candle while I slept, accidentally blowing to hard and spraying my white wall with pastel purple,

The small memories haunt me, I remember her helping me paint my room, the first day we started the song migraine played over the radio,

I remember the way she sung to it even though she didn't know every word,

I remember the way her dyed hair was tucked delicately behind her ear, trying to prevent paint from staining it, even though she had a streak of it in her fringe,

But I wish I didn't remember this, I wish I didn't remember the way she looked away when I tried to talk to her,

I wish I didn't remember the way her eyes dare not meet mine when she passed me to walk to class,

I wish, I never loved her too,

But I know, I wouldn't change a damn thing,

Because I know I would still cherish every moment I had with her.