When inquired what love was
I believed it to be merely infatuation,
an excitement sculpted by the sheerness
of gazing, but upon meeting
the blue-eyed boy, but an acquaintance
at first sight, he became what I believe to be now,
a love I would trek the world for,
the blue-eyed boy, completely and entirely
beautiful, in both soul and skin,
will forever and ever so more thereafter,
carry my heart in his hand, and I, his in my mine

For it blossomed from the unforeseen,
a tale neither expected yet welcomed tenderly,
a love so completely wonderful it aroused pain
at heartbreak, a loneliness in limbo, an absence in life,
alas, the soul felt abandoned in mist, as if lost with
a map, trusting the direction of a broken compass,
still, it was a tug and a pull and push,
the tug of the soul,
the pull of a heart,
the push of realisation,

But it was not the need for someone, something,
it was his mesmerising blue eyes,
the bite of his lip,
the sweet widened eyes when surprised,
the warm arms engulfing my body,
the sensual kisses on my neck,
the love I feel at his gaze,
the sense of bliss as our bodies melt into one,

Quite candidly, most honestly,
most sincerely,
I am madly in love with the blue-eyed boy

"Tell my mom I love her," She wrote, midnight creeping in,
The chill of the night swarmed me,
a gut-wrenching, stomach clenching knowing,
Flashing lights in the distance,
minds chaotic, frantic, dazed,
banging and banging and banging
The time flew, or jumped, or vanished,
and I saw the cuts, the tears, the pain,
the utter nothingness behind sad orbs,
The blood dripping from her neck and arms,
slowly, drying, as if taunting the scars,
she said nothing, only cried, wept and screamed,
Beside her, I stand as she says
"I don't regret it at all."

perhaps i linger in the perhaps
perhaps i shouldn’t
a limbo in which i await
full of disastrous wonder
a beautiful sense of denial
perhaps i linger in the perhaps
the perhaps of us
the knowing of no hope
of no trust
but perhaps
it could happen
just maybe one day
I will stop lingering
in the perhaps of us

Like a fever dream
this feels
like staring into a blank screen
watching myself, of her behaving like me
but there is this sense of the missing
of the moments lost in empty white rooms
of insanity lingering in the back room
of a looming loneliness upheld by a sole
red candlelight,
Maybe its the constant loudness,
or the fog outside,
maybe its the distance from home,
maybe, just maybe,
I am losing my mind

I touch the keyboard, my mind in scrambles,
Words become a knot of confusion
and I cannot express the very emotion in my chest

Gone yet here
with little proof
of existence, of the
warmth breathed out,
of the honeyed words
left beyond demand
Gone they are
but always
here

Just eat
Just eat and you'll be cured
Eat and the voice will stop
Eat and you won't look at the fat anymore
Eat and you won't think of the imperfections
Eat and you'll be happy
You will pretend nothing ever happened
You won't think of the tears
or the exhaustion or the anger
That's what they told me,
Just eat and it'll be okay
How funny it is,
to believe in ignorance,
in those who think they know,
without experience
funny
the voice never stopped