My Mind Holds The Weight Of

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.”

— Alfred Tennyson

“It’s amazing how much damage can be done when you have nothing but good intentions.”

— Tom Marin

The woven silk of

Silence, petals fluttering

A delicate day

And the world is wavering

Between soft kiss and collapse

The roofs shackled deep,

Far below the spires of the churches

That not a soul wanders into

For fear of being seen and accosted.

The roofs shackled deep,

In the pockets of the pictures

That crop up on midnight lights

Every half year or so.

The roofs shackled deep,

And then held out of reach

Because blood is thicker than water

And both are bought to let.

Reap torn bodies with a bare hand

Because we'd all do it if we can,

There are those, and there's me

And then the crop of the land.

She was never mine.

Not even in dreams,

where shadows lie softer than truth.

But I love her

like a noose loves the neck...

tight, desperate,

aching to belong.

She moved through me

like winter in old bones,

slow, cruel,

reminding me I’m still alive

only to feel the cold.

I gave her a love

like a blade gives mercy;

sharp,

faithful,

and never asked for.

She was the war I bled for

before the first shot was fired.

And I...

I was the wound

that stayed open

long after she was gone.

-Cyrus K.

I miss you every day. But today, it feels like everything I do is just here to remind me I am living without you.

I do not believe there is a more dangerous and destructive force in all the world than hope, but I do not believe there is a more necessary or perfectly beautiful one either.

Tyler Knott Gregson

“I choose to love you in silence because in silence I find no rejection, and in silence no one owns you but me.”

— Rumi

I loved a girl

like the earth loves the rain,

knowing she’d never stay,

but needing her just the same.

She cried once in my arms

and I caught her tears

as if they were stars

fallen just for me...

but she wept for him.

I bandaged wounds

carved by another man’s hands,

whispering lullabies

to a heart that beat for someone else.

Every time she broke,

I shattered more quietly.

She kissed me...

like a door half-open,

warmth lingering on the threshold,

but her soul still pacing

somewhere far inside a house

I was never invited to live in.

And still,

I gave her my all,

a love without borders,

a fire without fuel,

a sea willing to drown

just to hold her reflection

for one more second.

Is this not the cruel poetry of love?

To give,

not for return,

but because you were born

with hands that only know how to hold,

even when holding means breaking.

They say unrequited love

is the purest kind.

Perhaps because it never has the chance

to rot with reality.

It stays eternal;

not because it lives,

but because it dies

beautifully.

To love like this

is to bleed in silence

and call it devotion.

To smile through heartbreak

because her happiness,

even in someone else's arms...

still feels holier

than my own.

- Cyrus K.