I miss you a lot, like crazy
I want to ask you, stay
Show you my scars
The hole in my heart
But I cannot (ask)
You’re a riddle, still
Figuring out yourself
I’m just a plain page, unworthy of your time
I need you, but
You’re not mine anymore
Belonging to other streetlights, on the river
Under dazzling eyes, red in the night
Across an open sea, far (away)
Hi. I noticed you, from all the way over here… I vaguely recognise you. But I don’t know you.Not anymore.
Would you be my friend, still? Do you still have that sunshine smile, are you happy enough to laugh and love unconditionally?
I don’t know your face as well, have you lost your summer freckles? Your hair is shorter now, different, right? I don’t know your insecurities, if you still have them, they must’ve changed. Have you changed, too?
I don’t know you. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know you, though.
The light in your eyes resemble something I once wished for, maybe just slightly less bright, there’s a grey shadow in them.
How are you? Are you doing alright?
Do you have nightmares? I have them all the time. But I daydream loads. I hope you do too.
I wish we could meet some day, but I know we won’t.
Maybe we’re too different. Or maybe, just maybe…. we’re too similar.
Why sacrifice your sanity, your happiness and your youth for comfort, safety and control?
Leaving behind what does nothing but harm you, is not giving up or running away; it is simply realizing your own worth.
You are never stuck, locked up or forced to stay, you can always choose to start over.
Keep your head up, keep your eyes on your goal, keep your dreams alive. Keep going.
Unwind me // Wind me up
Shut me off // Tighten my spring
Put me back into a box // Break my walls
Cut my vocal cords // T
ie marionette string to my tongue
Knit my lashes together // Paint my eyeballs pink
Fold my ears inside out // Make the mice roar
Suffocate the light // Set fire to the world
naked and cold a lonely night
deep darkness hiding the sin
concealing the poison
head spinning, heart beating, blank mind
this unexpected but awaited escape
one last thought
quickly thinking it through
looking for that ounce of regret
not finding it
and then grabbing the bottle by the neck
bending a fork
naked and cold
do you have to go?
i know you have to go.
i have to go.
but do you, really?
you have to go now.
i have to go now.
i have to leave.
do you really have to leave?
you will miss your train.
i will miss my train.
i wish i could stay.
don’t miss your train.
(please miss your train)
i don’t want to miss my train.
(i really want to miss my train)
you can’t stay.
i can’t stay.
i love you.
i love you too.
Wrapped in familiar arms everything was simple. Here it would be easy to stay.
Then I heard your voice, even though it was miles away it pulled me back.
We belong to trains underground, Coca Cola owned wheels and a clock named Ben.
We write our stories on crinkled coffee shop napkins, with cheap jet black eyeliner. Rough at the edges, smudged lines; fairytales but with tragic endings and without sparkling bliss.
Rays of sun through glass windows compete with our clouded minds and rainy eyes. Sorrows braided into galaxies, puddles made into swimming pools.
We are just spilled paint in an art portfolio, the shards in a broken mirror.
She could not help it. The laughter had taken over her being and now she only existed as the uncontrollable exhales. That was all she was; which was far more than she had ever been. A shell or perhaps a mask. Covering up the lack of substance and personality.
It wasn’t her fault; at least not entirely. The world could’ve have been a bit more understanding of her chaotic creativity. But the way it always goes she was branded a lunatic.
At first she’d fight it. Tell people off. Stand up for her beliefs. Eventually she stopped. Her efforts were all for nothing. Realising she would never be seen as anything but, she instead became it. She did not own it; she was consumed. The very essence of her being had abandoned its independence and was now solely an image of what other people saw in her. Their prejudice; most of all their belief that she would never be anything but.
And so it goes. The different become freaks and individuality withers and dies.
After talking – and not talking
After lingering looks
After dancing – dancing too close
Before regreting – and not regreting
Before wondering – wondering what might be
During fairy lights
During happening – and not happening
During moments – moments when time stands still