Letter #20

Charles Bukowski, "hurry slowly," from Come On In!

Letter #17

Make me talk, make me sing Wash away everything Teeth on skin is the answer Meld me into flickering amber Design my body, change it's shape Run your fingers by my nape Melted through this simple touch Have my knees return to mush Break me, remake me Swear an oath, a loyal devotee As long as morning never comes Let us exist amongst loving hums

Date Written: 2nd of September, 2023

We walk around the city as you reach out to grab my hand, I let you and in an attempt to hide from the rain, We wind up back at your place. Burrowed deep beneath the bedsheets, Both aware this wont last, But placated to keep ourselves here a little longer In exchange for the warmth that lies in another's heartbeat. Sweet passing conversations, thoughts of looking forward To learning the details of each other's hairlines, If only in a future that wasn't destined to realize with someone else. Never quite you and never fully me, I quietly think to myself. The stormy season hasn't ended just yet and for now, The touch of your lips is still an ever present sensation. So we lend ourselves to the shielded walls of early 2000s romcoms And the belief that either of us will ever be enough. At least until the sun is ready to come into our lives again, At least until we can tell ourselves the truth.

Date Written: 8th of November, 2023

Letter #12

"You deserve better." Cowardness trickling through each word A lie is laced in fickle venom An attempt at some redemption As if you weren't deflecting Off a heart you didn't desire "You deserve better." It did not hurt me because it's untrue It did not hurt me because I wanted you It was accepting what had been left to die When you just couldn't think up an excuse That would make for a better goodbye "You deserve better." How hard did you try to make yourself believe it? Would it have been that hard to admit? I thought with me you'd show your real colour But the choices were grey Turning simple and duller "You deserve better." Did you expect me to shed a tear? Yes, maybe it's true My forwardness might cast a shadow But at least I know how to be more honest Than this a lie on which you insist

Date Written: 13th of August, 2023

Letter #18

Strings intertwined cause friction Somehow prized as this winning affliction So eager to tie our own ropes Yet all I can think of are the breaks and bends They're burning the candle from both ends Cascading wax leaks through my fingertips Is a string meant to melt? To dissipate? Sparks without a pulse to accommodate What a reward to be drenched in oil Awaiting the next pretty flicker of flame To set ablaze every notion of it's fame The tale of a red knot tangled

Date Written: 2nd of September, 2023

Letter #24

Please rip this heart from within my chest

Just as you carelessly tore your way inside

Begging for mercy, please, let me breathe

My dear, you must be a skilled sadist

I cannot handle another thought of you

Falling seems an apt term for it indeed

Yet you smile brightly, so wholly unaware

As I pull at strings asking how this is fair

Painfully puzzling with no answers to find

Accepting that maybe, just maybe

Between us, peace was never an option

Date Written: 17th of September 2023

I’d tell you everything if only you’d ask.

Here it is->

(Not my photo)

Note #9

Experiences may have lended their wisdom, Taught me how not to be like that monster. It's true I have gained new vision, however; My trauma did not make me stronger. The lessons it taught were too strict, Turned me afraid of being a bother. Yet you will not hear me faulter as I say; My trauma did not make me stronger. It left me beaten, battered and bruised, Now left to walk with poor posture. Please stop telling me time will fix things; My trauma did not make me stronger.

Date Written: 13th of August, 2023

A garden?

A garden?

Gardener perhaps

Or listener .

I see many flowers and their whispers

So much plants to grow and water with teardrops.

I can see the beauty and care.

And the soil it has.

Many songs they sing and sang

Some are dark, some pale

Some have other colors.. some are frail.

I better water them more.

Because season ends

A helping hand

And a garden box

Few drops of salt for you

So i can look at you more

Listen to your bruised song

Your blues, self inflicted bemuse

Until i see the next flower bloom

While i clean the garden with a broom

Perhaps you are a rose with a perfect prose.

Because your petals just rose up

I have to hose your soil and roots more

To see you once again before summer ends.

Nothing else but muses, a place so safe

Like a museum full of plants

And each has their own special chants.

By Marko Tivanovac

Letter #3

You're a toxin, a poison built to dissolve the lives of everyone you touch with that deformity of an organ you call a heart. Avert your gaze and ignore your texts, decline any sense of desperation you use to cling to those who're above your station. A lowly imperfection so intent on infecting any mercy you're shown, what wilting flower wouldn't weep given the chance to witness such a pathetic display of insecurities. Be grateful you are not yet eradicated, For time and the likes of you do not cross kindly. A childish fool, you were never worthy of humanity. To: Myself "With love - whatever that means."

Date Written: 6th of August, 2023 Words I had written to myself after a mental lapse.

Self-inflicted guilt laces my lungs with tar, it gets so hard to breathe. Sometimes I wonder if everyone feels this weight in their chests all the time, heavy with doubts and hesitations. I'm sure even the most put together people have things that bring them down when it gets quiet, which is sad to think about. All beauty needs to be broken before it blooms, but wouldn't it be lovely to simply indulge in peace for once? To quell the heartbreak inside is something special, I can only hope I may one day join the people who have found their rest from all of the emotional aches. Idk, i'm tired. it's all a lot.