the real truth is
i want to feel
i want to cry

the real truth is
i am lone
but surround by friends I'd die for

it used to be so neat, so nuclear
now it's hard to see clear

i am a bundle of habits
of sins, of needs
your favorite culprit

i should go
so i can be good
i should go
but not forever
(god no)

i need to try
i need to cry

I saw you
As you stared at me
Two deers caught in each other headlights
As brief as a flash, blinked, and you’d miss it

I am only reminded of my heaviness when you are there
Standing – Floating – Watching
As ghostly as any ghost, then
Gone – Vanished – Nothing
I am alone, again, cursed to remain here

I tried to follow in your footsteps
Untangling, unknotting, unravelling
Myself from a generation of debt and duty
These twisted roots of familiar obligations
How did you escape such a similar situation?

I wasn’t born light, like you.
I was born heavy, brother.
I will have to earn my lightness.

Sometimes on rainy days
when the weighty pain becomes unmanageable
I find myself slipping into the tangible delusion
Of ascribing meaning to everything

That maybe you think of me as much as I think of you
That you see my pain and want to help
But it’s just too much for you right now
When you’re ready, you’ll come back to me
You’ll come back.

Sometimes the little lies we tell ourselves
Can be enough to get us through this life

But not tonight.

On one of my daily walks
I spotted a little daffodil – perfect and yellow.
I didn’t realize that the season had changed.
Been so busy just trying to survive,
I didn’t notice that it was Spring.

Looking at that little daffodil,
My thoughts went to you - as they do.
And made me feel a little less alone.
Sometimes it is the smallest of things,
That keeps you going, keeps you alive.

As sure as the daffodils are to bloom.
I am sure I will see you again soon.
Until I can safely say hello,
I’ll keep you in my thoughts.
Every time I see some yellow.

I felt awkward accepting your love at first.
I didn’t quite know how to handle it nor what to do with it.
It was more than the little kernels I normally got.

So, I let you love me.
Like letting in rays of sunshine
Warm my insides.

How could I ignore a love so pure?
Who am I to be picky when I shall die in a car crash any day now?
I’ve shied away from loving long enough.

If I can’t stop the sun shining, then I won’t stop you loving me.

I haven't figured out how to be alone and not lonely
Only wishing I could go back to how it was before
But there are more things on my mind
There are more things to do
I haven't figured out how to do it on my own

Just me and a homegrown sadness
That keeps me company with
Those late night cigarettes and cold coffee
Staring out at windows starry-eyed at nothing

Let me have this one moment before you go.
Let me hold on to it before it will slip through my fingers.
All I have are these moments we shared.

They stay fresh on my mind,
The way our flesh entwined.
For once, lost in idleness.
Soon, the moment will lose its sharpness.
As time fades the memory made.

Until all that remains is a fleeting feeling.
A bittersweet leftover of a lover's emotions
shared with another.

It's a thousand tiny cuts that you receive
From the moment you're born
Waiting for someone to tell you that you are beautiful.
You yearn to stay youthful
You've learned the indisputable fact.
Your inherent value as a person
Reduced to your physical appearance
And given a numerical value online
For what is a selfie without it likes?

This is enough to make anyone cynical
Because everyone is the enemy
Like buskers on a busy street
All are competing for the attention
Of the passing indifferent crowds
All singing to be seen, to be known
Even just for one fleeting moment

It is a strange but primary emotion of the human condition
Decreed at birth to need validation
And this foundation is firmly instilled in us.
We never learn to fuss about it, as society reminds us
That there is nothing to discuss.
Sign up and accept the terms and conditions.
Show yourself to the world.
Nothing beats the sensation of adoration.
Even now, right now, I am showing myself to you.

So tell me I'm pretty, world.
Tell me I matter.
Tell me I exist.

There comes that moment of sudden awareness
When you raise your head and see the bigger picture
See the links between everything in your life
And make the connection that makes the most sense to you

My connection will be different to yours
Some will see undeniable proof that the Earth is flat.
Others will see a plan of salvation lay out for them.

It does not matter about absolute Truths.
Chasing such is absurd
Because if no one can see it
Nor perceive it
Then does it really exist?
All people see are their own truths instead
Ascribing meaning to the Chaos

That's the 'real connection between us all
The interconnectness of all things lay in the connections we all make
We are all bending reality ever so slightly to fit the narrative we have crafted for ourselves
Telling ourselves stories to make sense of everything - and we all have stories

I will not seek solutions by a judicious study of the discernable reality, looking for The Truth.
I will act and create my own reality
Until eventually, everything connects.

The first kiss was nice.
I was suddenly reminded of all the fun we had.
I felt my heart swell with old memories
Of dancing in your room at night
Or laying in the afternoon sun.
The time I melted into you
And you said you loved me.

That first kiss was nice.

Then you kissed me again.
I recalled how it ended.
The hurt and pain of the separation.
The feeling of not being want,
Of not being good enough.
My heart shriveled up as it remembered the heartache.

The second kiss was not nice.

I'll get the last train home
I do not wish to outstay my welcome
I really don't mind - I actually like it
Can you like sad and lonely times?
There's an odd feeling when overhearing friends talk
It forms the static beneath my thoughts
As I hold on tight to this solitude
And try to like it as much as it likes me

For that restless wanderer there is no common ground

On Sundays - when family rest and friends play - he has no where to go.

He hath ears and hears all
That is more painful than mere sight alone
Conversations that he will never partake in again

Through this suffering may wisdom come
Or else eternal punshiment for the restless wanderer

it was all good until in the morning when the last of the illusions was broken

he had let the past coloured his vision
while also putting his hopes of the future on to his present

but now he sees, now he leaves

we didn't fit like before but maybe we never did.

rationality crashes down on me
he does not have that bit of me I seek

so what's the point of prolonged  disappointment?

please don't make me think
turn the volume up
let me sink in noise
drown it all out
i don't want to hear you
call my name anymore

if i must live in this world
then i refuse to dwell on notions
i shall go through the motions
because it be hell if i stopped
and hell if i think

I fear me
Because I do
Not know me

Who is me
When others
Are not around?

I can be others
The son, the worker
The old friend, the lover
These are roles
I can control well

But when you
Strip the actor
Of his roles
what is he?

There is just me
And that scares me

and this is my reality

the promises i brake
the choices i don't make

i blur the lines
to keep my mind straight
losing myself in others
when i don't want to be me

right now i am smoking outside
with these strangers disguised as friends
these cigarettes aren't for me
but for them

i have lost myself along the way
i haven't been me for awhile now

and that is my reality

feelings of love
weigh you down
has you dealing
with the impossible
it's not just this
frown you see
it goes past the face
deeper into the past
making you wish
you never had
feelings of love

It was like I never left.
It made me uncomfortable,
How easy it was, how familiar.

There was meaning to it when you strip it down.
Compassion.
Plus the urge not to be sad for a little while.

It's hard to escape the past,
Ghosts linger in this room.
I hear them as you sleep.
Whispering what I already know.

I think I may have to bury you,
Once and for all.
But maybe not right now

Soon I will bury you into this poem as a grave warning to all.

But for now, we do not have to be ourselves in the shadows.

I call what I like 'Good'
And what I dislike 'Bad'

This morning was good.
It all depends on what is what.

Good old rain
Is upon us again
Cold pain
is upon us again

We could melt away
Back to the black
If just for a day or more
Ignore what was felt

However
Good old rain has remain
And we should too

Darling, let yourself cry
Raining now but we have
All of our life to be dry

This travel refreshes the eyes
Even if it is the same view
Day in and night out
Doesn't take away its beauty

A journey marked by swans
That runs seaside
then turns riverside
and adjourns right side
See, it's a journey burned behind my eyes

It is between the swans that I can think
And not think
This is my safe house and I'm a habitual criminal
Stowing away in this liminal place
Taking a rest from being arrested
for too much stress

I will never tire of these travels
Each sunrise and full moon
Falling that little bit more in love
Pupils dilating as the eyes refresh

And I know it is true - my soul is arriving
Wanting to take hold of this human frame
Shake loose those dark doubts in hiding
That grants the pain that comes with looming shame

Dare I ask - Is this me now taking control
Of the internal workings from being led astray?
Or maybe I am just giving in to the expected role
Accepting the external forces at play.

When my soul arrives then I shall begin again
Born anew sans sin so to be ready
Obtain contentment and maintain
Then it may grow and bloom steady

But I was wrong – my soul is not arriving. It is here.
Yet nothing changes. My dark doubts do not disappear.

I will hear the Swan's song soon.
Pale, as the moon shines.
A fading shade and then gone.

My feathers will become fossils.
My bones will become relics.
My memory will become heirlooms to be pass down.

What more could I desire to leave behind?
When this fire goes out, do not doubt.
The ashes shall preserve my bittersweet leftovers

Standing as a haunting reminder to all
More ghostly than any ghost
That I shall survive for as long as there are those who remember

And that is it.

It's a slow dimming within
It's a slow dulling of the senses
I must pay the consequences
Of my recklessness

I have lost my shine
Lost control of my spotted mind
Couldn't preform the role required
In this fake and tainted world - ain't that sad?

I will be good when I'm gone
And that's the sad truth about youth
All your trying gets you crying
When every step cuts and bleeds your feet
- Why would you walk?

My best intentions are not considered by The Fates - Tragedy at its purest

I wish Mankind could be kinder
I wish Solitude liked me
I wish I wasn't me

This is a pure hurting that can't be avoided.
It demands to be felt.
Pulsing waves of sadness radiating from within.

It washes over me.
It floods my body.
It cleanses my mind.

And in the morn -
I am reborn.

I seized the heaviness of the Earth upon myself while you floated to the moon on your on accord.
I guess we were never to share the same fate or be mates.
Before we could even be acquaintance
You cut that umbilical cord at the earliest convenience.
Leaving me to handle the discord.

I was taught that twins are supposed to share everything not just a handful of DNA.
I thought we were raised the same but I guess you were absent that day.
I know I shouldn't impose on to your qualities you don't possess however I never really asked much from you - just a little help to ease this heavy load on my shoulders.

As we got older, you grew colder
Detaching yourself more and more
I attached myself more more
To fill in the vacuum
A job that should've been shared
Became my full time job

Not that it would matter as at the end of the day we both share the title "Loving Sons"

We are not twins.
We are not brothers.
We are not siblings.
We are, as you told me on Christmas Day,
Simply two people who grew up together in a single house for a long period of time and that's it.
I know that I do not know you.
I should accept this and not expect anything from you.

Soon - I will collapse under the weight of the earth and you'll find a new home on the moon.

Before I went in the morning
I left you my heart
Not wanting to disturb your rest
I quietly ripped it out of my chest
And stored it in a cardboard box
I'd imagine you'll be quite flummox
Debating whether this was sane or insane
So allow me to plainly explain:
I had to depart from you
But my heart could not bear to be apart
I felt it distressing in my chest
For it loves you so freely and pure
Tearing it out was the only cure.
Don't ask why or how
Just know it is yours now
I don't mean to impose on you
Just propose you care for it
Like one would care for roses
Place it at whatever spot you feel it should grace
Treat it right and it will treat you right
Just please, please don't let it go to waste
It won't last forever - for my heart is finite
But there is still many fine nights to come
So enjoy it while it lasts

You won't catch me – while running through the rye
I've got nothing to lose - only everything to gain

Maybe I'll end up in miles of traffic waiting for the lights to turn
Like a yellow ladybird, waiting for the red light so to leave
The daily grunt and anxiety of simply going from A to B
My stomach churning at the thought of such a terrific possibility

Alternatively, away from the city, there's the sea.
I do always hold I was a French sailor in a past live.
Even though I've never been to the Côte d'Azur
I'm sure I could find a second home there

But I’ve never doubted the fact I do like my hometown
Could I really sway away from Bray?
I’ve never been down when walking along stony beach
Or over the Dargle at night, swans floating about without care

Learning is synonymous with Leaving
If I am to strive in this life maybe I need a push
To drive myself from my comforts
And feel that rush upon discovery one’s worth
In living than mere surviving.

Although I must admit, this poem is full of ****
These ramblings of single stream of thought
Not dreams per say as I am aware that
They do tear at the seam and unravel quite brilliantly.

No, this is not my dreams and hopes
Or some sad reality check
About how tempting the rope can be
Or what can be done before one is dead

No, these words are quite frankly, just words
They represent my world at this present time
What one can find on my mind
Nothing more, nothing less

There is danger that tomorrow
It could all change
Stranger still, it could all remain the same.

Still with all this said ---

You won't catch me - while running through the rye
I've got nothing to lose - only everything to gain

He stopped sleeping one night, alone
Keeping his eyes awake, watch
As he lies vacantly, treading
Through tough thoughts, though
Knowing less by knowing, more
Memories fleeting by, now
He begins to itch, finally
Fingers twitching like moth's wings, fast
Scratching at sin scar skin, alone
Until he sleeps forever, more?

A wire is all that separates me from them.
It's too thin to see but I can hear the low buzz when I get close.
I don't know if it's electric -
But why take the chance?
I'm not manic enough for this death dance.
Yet, to them - my actions appear egocentric
Or that I want to disappear.

This is not the case.

I wish to join them.
But that buzzing prevents me.
There is no way about it.
And I doubt I could change this dread.
Pulling my teeth out of my head.
So I tell myself I like solitude -
Even if solitude doesn't like me

Mystery are the prongs of jealousy
When struck rings and sings like a song.
Mystery still is why such innate sea of emotions
Overcomes me in such a fashion.
What does this say about me?

The prongs rings out -
I doubt -
I've ever felt this wrong before.
The prongs rings out -
I know -
Singing of everything I want
But will never had

I cannot change the song
Or tune these prongs
To another key
As the ringing is too strong

And it's been too long
Since I've heard sweet silence
All I have is neat violence
In the form of a forlorn song.

It's hard to know which way the wind is going to blow
And whether I will blow with or against it
Weather is temperamental
It has its own mentality - its own sovereignty.
And in a sense, innately sentimental.
How spring brings life - winter takes it.
Season change with little reason
Not strange in the grand scheme of things. Does it really matter how green the ground is?
How blue the skyline?
Does it harm us if it's not warm enough? What's enough?

I don't know which way the wind is going to blow.
But blow it will and maybe this time I'll  blow with it.