If I was an empty glass
Depression would be water
A tap being left on over night
Over weeks
Over years
Me desperately trying to catch every drop before anyone notices
Time bringing me close to the brim
Another drop would bring me over the edge
Im full now

The smiles come quickly and sweetly
Flowing like manna from the gods
Appearing as easy as sleeping in late
On a lazy Sunday morning
in the height of summer
Ignoring that ringing alarm
You set the night before
When you were
slightly tipsy and willing
You can change your mind you know
Even though you were so sure before
Of the early rise and the willingness to try
You can stay tucked in
Ignore the sun blinding in your eyes
Demanding your attention
You don’t have to rise to the day
There’s always time to choose

Debris alongside the highway
Bother me
Here are littered items
Treasures discarded at 50 miles per hour
Memories left
behind of travels
And worse
Yet we pass by
Eager to get home
Ignorantly blissful
Of what could be ours

There is no such as a happy ending
The reason Shakespear failed in writing us our perfect love story is that
The mere notion that things would stop
if they were happy
doesn’t make any sense
The highway of happiness
Allows the car or motorbike or van that is ourselves
With a full tank of petrol
Take the eager passengers of emotion
Depending on the space within
Carry us on a cruise or a splutter
until the end of the asphalt

The end of the road of life,
is the end of life
Anyone who says there’s dignity in death
Obviously hasn’t held the hand of a loved one
As they splutter for breath
Rasping and shallow
Asleep but begging for something you can’t give them
Someone

Death isn’t dignified
It’s a rusty engine collapsing
The car that has driven you
for your whole life
You have oiled, serviced, mot-ed,
loved,
Neglected,
Repaired
failing for one last time

No matter how many *** holes you have hit
Flat tyres, blowing and wiping out days, weeks months of exploring
We still travelled forward
Experiencing every view and every bump along the way
There’s no happiness in the end of the road
It’s only there in how you look back upon the journey

Doesn't reside in
Swollen hearts
Not one singular
Chamber free
Busy with its own
agenda.

The stomach
It'll find no home
Empty rooms
No space for feelings
With the Drink
drowning Butterflies

Love is a
choice behind the eyes
With
Conscious thought
Deep contemplation
Uncovered
Found
Buried in white.

Love is a choice
It’s not a never ending releasing of butterflies drowning out the doubts in the stomach
It’s the ability to put aside the “I know I’m right”
For the; “we mean more than being right”
It’s the willingness to wake up
After the frigid night before
The conscious decision to be the first to reach out
A testing hand touch of “Are you still mad?”
Fingertips as light as a fox hunting in snow
One hands replying squeeze of “its already forgotten”
The other pulling me tighter
The frost thawing beneath your heat

I am warrior
I am strength
Compassion
Intelligence
Fire
Fury
And blade.
I am nothing unless you gaze upon me.

Nothing
except holes
stitched
together by lies
we tell
ourselves.
Without someone
I'd be
like them
Without them
We'd be
Lost

I fall for pretty, dumb boys
With slow smiles that can light up the sky
They don’t know anything about pain
So they try to help everyone they can
They’re too naive to understand that they cant
Or shouldn’t
As much as you can’t stop the sun settling down over the horizon
Passing it’s daily guard to the watchful moon
She protects the nights hush with blanketing the air
The stillness helps us sleep
Except that one person who fights to stays awake
Not trusting of the moon to defend the silence
Or the sun to rise and start a new day
Each new day brings new pain
And I’m not yet finished with yesterday’s
No matter what pretty, innocent boy tries to help

Running away
Is the easy part
Leaving everything behind
And starting your life again as someone new
Always came so naturally to me
Blending into the crowd
Wearing what they wear
Laughing at what they laugh at
It’s the sticking around that’s hard
No one has

Thank you
For your lack of support
I’d never know what I’d do
With someone cheering me on
Thank you
For putting me down
It just gives me something to measure myself against
When I fight my way back up
Thank you
For never being there for me
It’s taught me that I don’t need you
How to be there for myself

And how I’d always be there for someone else who needs it.

Words mean
Worlds

Smiles
And laughter
Escaping
From picket fences

Fake
Behind enamel walls
Speeches shake
The foundations
holding
strong

Morter dries
Still groaning
Shaking Foundations
Whilst
Sweets erode
The defences

I set my alarm for early.
“To go for a run” I say.
“I need to get fitter”
The alarm wakes you too
Your body makes it’s way towards mine
And suddenly all I care about
Is how easily I can fit,
back into your arms.

I want to get smaller
There’s no reason for it
Logically I can see what I look like when I look into a mirror
Logically I know that’s probably just skin
It has a thickness of its own
Everyone has that roll
You need somewhere for your organs to go

Logically I know
It doesn’t matter my waist size
No one can love me anyway
But what if I were a little bit smaller
What if I just skipped that meal
Would anyone notice?
What anyone care enough to hold me and grab me and make me believe they love me for who I am.
One of us has to.

Too is an opinion
Not a fact

Too varied just means varied with
Personal doubt dragging it down

There is no such thing as
Too intelligent
Too driven

Too doesn't make you weak.

I fight to be too.

You should fear too.