This poem was written by my friend Hannes Penttinen; I felt it resonated with personal experiences, and therefore wanted to share it.
Where once I felt at home in your arms A poison fills my heart. And the longer I stay, the harder it is to leave, skin to skin, the more I bleed. The promise of a kiss that never comes, False warmth of a whiskey against the naked arctic cold.
I touch your hand as if There were many miles between us And your smile, inches from my face, clenches my jaw. Which you saw.
Screaming into a radio But it's on the wrong Channel. Screaming 'till my throat bleeds But the silence is still louder.
I don't care if it would kill me, Just want it to fulfill me.
It would be easier To pass the wait If I filled myself With hate.
But I can't do that.
I could write a book about the things you don't know. But if I did so, It would be better for you, were you never to have read it. And for all the things I could say, Better never to have said it.
If I could just lie, Maybe it wouldn't be goodbye. Maybe I could give it another try, But I doubt it.