there is a boy
he lives in a photo frame
he lived once
outside of the photo frame
he was like the flowing wind
before the wind blew away his ashes
he burned with the passion of a fire
before the flames engulfed him
he made his own paths
before he was driven off the course
he celebrated today
before tomorrow was stolen from him
he was my friend
before he was a memory
before he was
the boy in the photo frame

I wish the stakes were higher.

How do we know if we’re right, if we’re always told that we’re wrong?

There’s this word in Japanese “komorebi” it pictures the light that is filtered through the leaves on a tree. It’s supposed to represent the nostalgia, that someone feels as they look upon a memory. I disagree with nostalgia, it means that you miss something that you left behind. If you miss it so much, why must you see it from such a distorted sense? No. In my case, it was never nostalgia. I only saw the light through the leaves because I didn’t want to go blind. I only left the love behind because I didn’t want the pain that came with it. So why, I ask do you look back at the pain?

My name means blood; dark and red
My name means words; unseen and unsaid
My name means love; misheard and misled
My name is all, my name is none
My name is the bullet and I am the gun

If your pain was a pebble instead of a boulder
If your grief was a feather , I could bear it on one shoulder
If your smile would never falter and your eyes would never water
The world would never be brighter

Polaris
The stars spoke to me once
They followed me in the dark and led me to you
I was told that the sky has many variables but only one constant; Polaris
I believed that you were my Polaris
We are fools that are blinded by the things that shine brightest
But we are unaware of the damage that we inflict upon our vision
We are fools on a voyage to a lost city
We are lost before we start