All the silence does not mean
You are alone,
It is the world waiting for you
To listen;
And in the darkness you are
Found by the light
Of your hope.

And in the tears of your
Pain you are born,
There you become stronger
And it creates order.

Pick up your flesh as your spirit
Lifts,
And speak your happiness
As if the tip of your tongue
Was the mountain's peak
Speaking at the sky,
The burden is a caged bird
And only the conscious can set
It free.
And sing to yourself so that
You know you are never alone
In your body.

Know that your crazy is beautiful
Because it makes you YOU,
Wear your skin like
Your cozy blanket and cuddle
In the warmth of yourself.
     You are not broken,
But scattered like the night
With pieces like stars shining,
    Open your pain and yourself
To the wound of the world and heal
Whatever you choose.

morphine. i found ashes in the pages of the photo albums under
my bed yesterday, leaves turned red pages to the colder chapters
and i thought you could still grow a rose this time of year but then i
remembered when we used to make flower crowns in sixth grade so
i took some morphine;
it helped with the pain

the night is younger than ourselves and we run through breakspears road shattering the lampposts with our bare hands, yes we are the new generation! everybody knows we aren’t scared of losing the pieces in our own, we just want to see the skin pulled off the tips of our fingers! (when you’ve been feeling the blunt edges of scalpels and needles all your life walking on glass starts to feel like heaven)

codeine— hell is getting hotter! she took to the clouds and the glass
shards wrote crimson sonnets on the bottoms of her feet, marietta i
trusted you i really did, i made you promise
that you’d stay; not with me, of course
(some things are more important in the end)
i wanted you to stay here.
but you wanted to see the stars so
i choke down the cough syrup;
one ache distracts me from the other

dear marietta,
the light distorts so strangely here in the water.
this is how i want to leave this place

I hate helplessness
It's creates the kind of anger that you can't express until it makes you cry.
Frustrating
A gentle breeze nor a god can move the immovable object
your happiness matters not to the immovable object
Impossible obstacle
Helpless

i know its been a while
since ive been here
crying
sooking
pouring my heart out
to a bunch or strangers

i know most of us will never
meet
and some days that
tears me apart

but just a casual update
i am fine
and by fine i mean
fine like i dont know
anymore

but im still here
and wont be going anywhere
anytime soon

thats a promise!

I walked along the mountain stream
Where dancing sunbeams shone and gleamed

It was such a peaceful place
The gentle breeze carressed my face

I came across a country stile
Where I could sit and think awhile

Far  away  from  this  dangerous  world
The  natural  beauty  just  unfurled.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.

my body has been tainted by a boy
with scruffy sideburns
bleached hair and toffee eyes.
i found his brokenness
intriguing
flattering
mysterious.
his skin was like a newport on a nipped february morning
his hair like a wool knitted sweater
he tasted like apricots drenched in wine.
he kissed me like he loved me
he licked me like he missed me
he held me like he'd never let me go.
he rode his bike everywhere,
his heart was cold as snow.