If you listen carefully
Silence will speak
Sometimes too stubborn to hear
Or too weak
Volumes in what is not said
The wind
The crickets
Scuffing feet and creaky beds
The conscience replaying
Pets and peeves
The want to stays and want to leaves
Adjusting to your willingness
To accept the more
And the less
If you can hear it
You will know
Silence speaks straight to the soul

our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine

i need to stop
setting myself on fire
to keep you warm.

I didn't want you,
I wanted love
and I have realised
that they are not the same thing.

You were a mould
that I poured my insecurities in,
a computer I tried to program.

But you are a sky,
stormy and clear and rainy and warm.

You were so blue when I longed for red.

I didn't want you.
I wanted the thought.

My entire life
is in a backpack
because even if where we stay isn't the same
as the day before,
at least the stuff I carry
in this backpack
is the same stuff every day.

I'm just a shell
Of who I used to be
Can't you tell
This isn't really me?