with my head gently resting on your shoulder,
eyelids heavy with a golden slumber,
i drifted off to the land where nothing exists
but your voice,
reading me poems by Yeats. a single
tear you shed, it fell down your cheek and you
said
“yes.”
you pulled me closer to you, reminding me to breathe.
you held me in your arms like they were a sanctuary
i could live in without ever feeling like my wings
had to be clipped in order for me to be
free.
you mustn’t starve yourself of the things that give you life, my dear,
oh but I know, this life sometimes feels like too much to bear.
food, love, affection
you looked up at me in all your
perfect imperfection
as my heart became so full
i began to float away.
when i look at you, i see stars
and suns and giant moons
i hear fireworks transmuted to verses
of poems and songs i wish I had written,
i feel all the beauty and pain that is needed to be felt
in order to be human.
treasure you,
do i ever
the joy is loud!
when we are
together.

perhaps it’s the fear of being loved
or the fear of being left
that has been gnawing on my heart lately,
a cruel reminder of what it means
to be truly alone.
you’re here
and then you’re not.
i am afraid of being the thing of lesser importance.
i am afraid of the past repeating itself
but that in itself may be
a red flag.
for it is only I and I alone
that can prevent that from happening.
by choosing not to crumble at the slightest scent
of abandonment.
by savouring the sweetness of sleeping beside you,
until morning comes to kiss us with lips
scarred with inevitable parting.
perhaps it’s the fear of being loved
or the fear of being left
that has been gnawing on my limbs lately,
making it impossible to take a small step
on the days where the sun decides to resist the day.
i have no reasons to give you,
only a word coupled with a wide-eyed stare.
i feel too much and yet i feel nothing
at all.
sleep walking on a cloudless sky, trying to pin down
a distant bird, the root
of its incessant call.

sitting before the curtain of my heart,
i feel the ripples of what some might call fear
for what is about to unveil.
behind me sits an audience that can only  be described
as a sea of songs long since embedded in my brain,
waves of past lovers and lies and the
silhouette of a solitary sickness.
then suddenly, the lights go dim
and i am overcome by the previews
of the present moment.
caught between the sea behind me
and the curtain in front of me,
is all that i am
all that i love
and all that i have yet
to be.

once you embark on the journey
of healing
you can’t really go back.
i mean you can, but if you do,
you have twice the work to do
if you want to start healing again.
and it’s terrifying.
every day i’m faced with the choice to either
wallow in all the things that make me sad,
or count my blessings and revel in being happy and present
and every day is a
fight.
some days are like jumping through puddles in rain boots,
other days are like climbing the tallest mountain in bare feet,
but i have come to learn how to
appreciate the sad days
because they always teach me something i didn’t know
before, about how to be happy again.
there is still such a long way to go
and nobody can do it for you
so be brave,
be brave,
be brave.
you know how.
i promise you, you do.
you are worth all the stars in the sky, the moon and the sun combined.
you are a million candles in an echoey cathedral.
you are the three part harmony in every one of your favourite songs.
you are every kiss, every embrace, every scar
that smiles like a warrior when people notice that it has
healed.
you are not the things that have happened to you,
you are not your sadness or your loneliness or your thoughts.
so be brave,
be brave,
be brave.
you know how.
i promise you, you do.

one good thing will happen
to counteract the bad,
bringing me back down to earth,
dissolving each dream that i’ve had.
expect the worst, always hope for the best
set yourself up for a long way down
to fall until you can finally rest.
i can’t have everything, everyone knows nobody can
i feel like an ostrich
hiding his heavy head in the sand.
maybe disappointment and happiness
are in fact, closely linked.
maybe what i need is beyond what i want
or feel or say or think.

the best thing for my heart
is the worst thing for my mind
it just can’t wrap itself around the fact
that now is the best time
to stay away, to cast a tall shadow
on the silhouette of my hopes,
to let you have your space
to hurt and bleed and heal and do
whatever else you need to do
to feel like yourself again.
time and patience and distance
is the only cure for that.
me and my selfish desires play no part in this,
i know, you don’t have to tell me.
it’s the best thing for my heart
but the worst thing for my mind,
i’d be yours in a second if only
you’d see the ties that bind.

every time you look
at me my words light on fire,
i can't say a thing.