Pinks, purples and blues;
A bubblegum daydream;
Warm breeze wrapping around;
A gentle hug for a slow beating heart.
Incandescence a faint memory,
A gentle hum in place.
The smell of freshly new ironed clothes.
The inhale of perfume; enveloping and a long exhale escapes lips.
The sweet sound of birdsong and the calm that nature brings is easily rivalled by you darling,
I am home.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 7:12 PM UTC
Dawn Breaks,
Realisation beckons.
An unhealthy dependence on stability,
In an ever changing world.
Life moves with the linear construct of time,
As only it can.
Love falters when the foundations crack; It cannot protect you.
Passion is unsustainable and will not last,
The reminiscence of hot passion lost will not keep you warm.
You will never reach a constant happiness,
There will always be a balance.
Things that you know will be, won't always be.
Happiness will happen randomly; sadness will happen randomly; hopefulness will happen randomly; hopelessness will happen randomly.
In life we are always lost and when we think we are found;
we start to question who we are; what we are.
Because we will always believe there is better,
Because we are certain of it.
This intangible idea motivates us,
Even though we know we can never be certain of anything.
Are we able to cope with the change and the the uncertainty of it all?
Is the balance worth the constant consciousness?
Yes, because the human experience is precious to us.
Others experiences are precious to us and their experience tangled messily with our own; no certainty of when their part in your narrative will end.
We grip to our seats and live vicariously through their narrative and put ours on hold; or even merge the narrative so much it becomes one.
The pursuit of happiness can be fickle.
But the endeavour is never ending and worth every fibre of our being.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 1:45 PM UTC
An influx of dreams
Relief when I awaken
The almost nightmares
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
When your lungs succumb to the crisp clean air of a winter morning;
Warmth of loved ones in a place of serenity;
Exchanges of laughter;
So loud and so carefree.
When you're out far too late that not even the ghosts are out to whisper;
Walking down a road so vacant and never ending that you question whether this world is your own.
Appreciating the universe for not asking you for anything and just living for the hell of it.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
I told you to leave
I miss you so very much
What cruel irony
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC