On Moving On (poem)

Sometimes you move on,

not because you want to,

but because you have to.

Because you can't hold on

to something that's already gone,

and isn't coming back.

Those days are lost at sea,

deep in a sea of memories,

and you'd drown chasing them.

So you remove her picture,

the one she gave you,

and hide it away from yourself.

You know you should toss it,

but still can't accept its permanence,

that this is your ever after.

But moving on is about time,

the eventual decay of all things,

until one day it doesn't hurt.

-Zero

Hearing whispers in the dark (poem)

I hear whispers in the dark

as I wander through this life,

beckoning me closer,

to return to their love.

Once upon a time, I did,

got lost in their lies,

in the stories I told myself,

and found myself deep in obsession.

And although I wander alone,

with nothing but a small flame to guide me,

and the path is dark with horrors,

I will not be led astray.

Monsters may come my way,

some may even look like me,

but I will fight them with a burning heart,

and continue on with flame in hand.

When my wandering comes to an end,

and my body is thrown into the fire,

I will burn away with joy,

knowing that I did not go astray.

-Zero

A Bad Week (poem)

I know you're tired,

work's been hard,

unhappy people and long hours,

just needing to rest

but even your dreams are of work.

I wish I could take it all away,

put on your uniform

and give you some relief,

instead of trying to make home better,

only for work to haunt you.

Let me stay up all night,

if you could sleep all day.

I'll go get yelled at

if it'd give you peace and quiet,

but it won't.

So I'm sorry

for being able to do so little

about you doing so much.

Despite all the love I have for you,

I can only do so much.

-Zero

Past Summers of Isolation (poem)

Past summers of isolation,

of loneliness

craving somewhere else,

someone else.

I confess I missed you,

dreamed of you,

wanted you back again,

something to fill the void.

I felt like a trench

waiting for the ocean to fill me,

but it had dried up -

you were gone.

But time changes all things.

You're still gone,

but I'm grateful for it,

glad I didn't drown.

Past summers of isolation,

hopelessness,

and desperation,

days now long gone.

-Zero

The Chill of Sunrise (poem)

The sun rises in bloody hues,

another empty night.

Fill it with videos and games,

watch sunrise with regret and self-loathing.

Glance upon its beauty and remember

how cold such a beauty feels.

Shiver in the heat of summer underneath four blankets,

all belonging to her.

But she's gone now.

Soon she'll send for her things,

leaving nothing but painfully happy memories behind.

-Zero

Cautious of Love Poetry (poem)

I'm cautious of love poetry now,

both my own and other's,

watching for signs of obsession,

confessions of idealization.

If the beloved is “perfect”,

they might just be a fabrication

of a poet's romantic mind

plagued by its own imagination.

If it's focused on the beloved's beauty,

how divine or angelic they are,

then they're more a moving statue

than a person in the poet's mind.

But if the poet blames their beloved

for enticing them with their beauty

like a temptress Eve,

then certainly the poet is to blame.

After all, perfection is impossible,

beauty is meaningless,

and no one is responsible

for your feelings but yourself.

-Zero