I'm running away.
I look back.
You're standing right there.

Speechless.
Emotionless.
Tear less.

But I can still see your sorrow.
I can feel it.
I can breathe it.
I can't stop it.

I'm still running away,
And I can't quite remember why.
I floated away,
Like a wooden boat on a rough sea.
Floating, anchor less.

Wave your arms toward me, baby,
Don't speak, don't scream.
Just beckon to me.

You know that you are the fire that lights my sun.
You know that you are the wind that burns my face red.
You know that you are the water that flows through me when I feel dry.

So call to me,
Like the shore calls the tide to wash away the gritty sand.
Call to me,
Like the moon brings the waves to her lips and kisses them goodbye.
Call to me,
Like the slim beam of light calls for the safe passage of the wooden boat.

Call to me, baby,
Because you'll bring me back to shore.

You put on your bathing suit.
You make sure that nothing gets wet more than it needs to.
You take a deep breath.

The cold will definitely sting.
And it does.

The first few strokes are effortless,
You know for sure that you will make it across.
But then you open your eyes underwater,
And see the blue shifting and fading
With the moonlight.
And suddenly, the lines on the floor of the pool
Start to blur.
The lines leading  you there  
Start to blur.

You can see how far everyone else has come,
But measuring your own progress,
Finding out how far you have come
From where you started to wherever you are now,
Is **** near impossible.
The water still shifts and fades,
And entices you in the
Intimacy that stretches from the earth to the moon.

For how long?
For how long will you keep kicking your legs?
For how long will you keep waving your arms about?
For how long, exactly,
Will your head come up
And breathe?

And even if you reach the end,
Even if you get out of the water;
Even though you made sure that nothing got more wet than it needed to:
Your hair will still be dripping,
Your eyes will still sting.

I see colors.
But all I think of is black.
The bright blue of the sky
Is always clouded by ugly grey clouds
In my mind.

Each of my eyes
Sees different things.
One of them sees everything
That any normal eye should;
Family, friends, birds, trees.
A vast blanket of normalness.

The other one, however,
Sees how threadbare the blanket really is.
Sees only the shadows that fall behind
Family, friends, birds and trees.

The other eye sees everything
As it really is.
The other eye realises
That the lush lawn of our humanity
Is really just a concrete floor
Painted green.

I finally figured out
Mankind's obsession with stars.
They are ten thousand lifetimes away.

We can see them from such a great distance,
Even though they are shrouded by the all-consuming night.

They signify love,
They twinkle only for our eyes.

They are so lonely,
In a void that consumes everything.
But they all come together
Just to give us a sky worth remembering.

They are the only things that we can't touch.
They are
The only things that don't hurt us back.
And that is why
They are the only things we can trust
With our deepest secrets.

Why does everyone say
That pain is a negative emotion?

I could not find a more positive one,
Anywhere I look.

Pain makes us see new colors
That never existed before.
Pain shows us words
That we couldn't speak before.
Pain guides my hand,
As I paint what I feel.
Pain makes my works of art masterpieces.
Pain builds a platinum wall around me,
And covers my heart with stone.
It exposes me till there is nothing left to show
Except my nobly bones.
It shows the world
The truest form of me.

Say what you will,
Try to move on as much as you want.
At the end of the day, you can be sure,
That pain will be
Your best enemy.

No, please, I need to go.

My home glides with the river.
My friends soar above the clouds
And watch the world through their snow-speckled eyes.
My parents are the rocks
That give me purchase when there is only icy sleet.
My teachers are the swift and rough waters
That don't let the cold catch up with them.
My love is the elusive beast,
That I see out of the corner of my eye.
I can't quite see him through the dappled trees,
But I know he watches me, guides me.
My memories are of the mountains,
Of the water that roars my name,
Of the elements that made these callouses on my hands.
I travel with the wind,
The breeze whistles the tune I sing.

So, if you forgive me, I have an appointment with my life to keep.

I thought I knew you.
I thought I knew what you liked,
What you knew,
What you were.
I thought that you knew your limits.

But now I wonder
If you were ever that person at all,
If it really was you,
Talking with me,
Laughing with me,
Making me feel safe.

But was I ever safe?

I try to think about how
I myself have changed,
And I can't even figure out why.

Everything is abstract.
Can change in a second.
Doesn't need to follow a pattern at all.

Knowing that I may never know the true you
Ever again
Scares me more than life itself.