Everyone
calls me a cynic;
thinks of me as a fool -
for I do not believe in the reality
of soul-completing
story-worthily compelling
love

And I'm not sorry

Because
I know what I mean
and I know how I feel

Love is simply fictitious -
If it wasn't,
then one wouldn't
fall in and out of it
so quickly
No,
one wouldn't choose to hurt
and betray
and scare off
if it was real

And that's how I know

I don't want to write anymore,
it's hurting me so much,
I'm losing myself in a sea of words,
of things I don't understand

I don't want to write anymore,
it makes me think about myself,
it makes me wonder why I bother,
why I am the way I am

I don't want to write anymore,
I just want to stop.
I need my head to stop circling,
I need my heart to collapse.

I don't want to write anymore,
I just need to understand
why it is,
that life makes no sense

I hate myself
it's at night time the whispers are the loudest,
they speak of my indecision,
my inability to articulate my emotions,
my weakness, my futile tears, my numbness, my unfaithfulness,
I hate myself*
it's just as things are going well,
that the voices return,
from their leave of absence,
they're kind at heart, don't you see,
they allow me to bring myself up, to try,
to almost get there,
before creeping up on me
I detest what I am
the most abhorrent thing about the voices,
you really want to know?
it's not that they come from
within, though that too is tough,
it's the fact that I hear him in them, and know that he
was right all along.

i did something stupid last night,
i ****** myself in
to an intangible web,
spinning itself only in
to destruction

i know i did something stupid last night,
i listened and i spoke honestly
(***** does that to you)
i told you, your face is pretty
and i made sure you believed it.


i know i was stupid last night,
i must have been pretty ****
dumb
'cause you entrusted me with something
something of broken innocence,
and i cannot
let it go.

I know what I did now,
I can understand it.
I know why you don't look at me now,
I can see it.
I know why we are broken now,
I can't fix it.

I can feel the gravity of grasping your heart
and pulling at it hard and fast;
reeling you in and turfing you out
unintentionally cruel.

People speak of heartbreak often; I am no exception
except this time,
it is me that is the cause
Funny how it takes hindsight to realise
how terrible humans can be to each other,
especially when they think
that they're acting
out of love.

I honestly do not
know, how to feel;
how to think,
how to see clearly:

because, it was unfair
and unjust,
incomprehensible -

and worse still,
there is nothing I can do,
to prevent the pain from
inflicting everyone else.

I think I take up too much space;
my mouth is too loud,
my legs are too wide,
everything about me is clutter

I bring up the same boy that broke my heart,
I feel so distant to that girl now and yet,
it's like I'm nostalgic for the pain I put myself through
and for that, I am an *inconvenience

I was struggling,
to feel
inspired - for so long
I was unable to form words;
coherent sentences

Then,
suddenly,
I became over-whelmed with incessant emotions
of albeit incoherent ramblings

The cause,
why of course -
it can only be
attraction
I'm too afraid to call it love

Torn, conflicted
Split in two

One half,
Awed by talent,
Impressed with skill,
Dismayed through maturity,
clouding my judgement

The other,
Transfixed,
Lingering emotions,
Pangs of jealousy surging,
with the signs of his distaste
He is the first,
the only one of any worth

I started off unable to write -
with a lack of inspiration
Now I am content with my inspiration
of emotional turmoil

Carved insanity,
Etched deep in the mind,
Darkness reigns.

Shattered tragedy,
Fragmented a thousand different ways,
Pain glistens.

But also,

Clarified simplicity,
Weaved intricately,
Beauty clings.

Confounding happiness,
Overshadowing all else,
Light illuminates.

There's so many people,
Talking,
Communicating but never sharing;
No, never revealing,
Their true self
Because everyone's ashamed:
Of who they are,
what they believe in,
where they're from,
where they're going

So that's why,
I sit and watch sometimes;
Silent
Because its quaint really,
To see everyone pretend,
and occasionally,
watch the masks peel away

I've never been wanted,
not truly,
always harping on about that same ginger boy who
took my  heart and squeezed it,
tightly, until it burst

he left me to clear up the mess, naturally

I've never been wanted,
until now,
and this thought consumes me,
swallows me whole -
not with arrogance,
but with disbelief,

you see,
my head's a mess,
my heart's even worse,
etched together in haste -
you see
I am wanted
by more than one
and my heart is greedy
I want them all
totally and completely





I told you,
my head's a mess.

I've not been myself for a while,
had my heart
broken y'see;
It was a little while ago now,
the pain has faded,
it merely ebbs now and again

I've not been myself for a while,
it changed
me y'see;
I pieced myself back together,
best as I could,
but cynicism still spilled
into the cracks

I've not been myself for a while,
totally someone
new y'see;
there is so much that I want now,
so much more than boys or love,
I'm hardened to all that

I've just discovered myself,
I just realised a second ago,
I never really went away,
I was just concealed under the surface,
waiting for life's little pleasures
life's little happinesses,
to pull me through,
out of the ever-ebbing darkness.

tell me
why am i waiting on you
waiting for you
to come back
to love me fully
to hold me

let me know
when you'll be coming home
and home is of course not a place
but is simply just with me

tell me
are we ever gonna be on the same page again?
whether it's dogs or cats or fighting wars
will we ever fight for the same thing?

oh please
tell me
will you ever be ready to listen
or is this dream
has this dream
run it's course
and i
am obselete once more ?

Quiet,
Everything's so silent,
Eerily so 
Silence creates 
Mystery,creates fear;

Alone, 
Isolated by my being, 
My persona shatters,
I am not who you thought
I am much, much worse

Derived from insanity, 
Carved in imperfection,
Encased in pessimism,
Warped with confusion, 
I am done.

They speak only of strain,
both economic and physical,
They talk only of inconvenience,
of wasted resources,
They teach only worst-case scenarios,
of foolish mistakes made by
insignificant humans.

And it's ingrained within,
intrinsic and instinctive,
we no longer value individual lives,
we no longer care for other humans,
life-forms.

they never speak of the loss of life,
they never talk of the despair -
no,
we won't ever hear of their pain,
their desperation,
because, we are the privileged
and they are insignificant.

we are all held together
by little tiny seams,
bound together with the lightest touch,
yet somehow,
resilient

it's funny how
quickly we are all overwhelmed
by boys and girls and love
and lust
and how quickly
it threatens our fragile self.

I often wonder what it would feel like,
to just loosen
my grip on reality, on myself, on how I feel,
how freeing it must be,
to unbound at the seams.

Firstly,
thank you,
for the way you did it,
dropping me like that,
from such a height,
letting me cascade and crash like that

no-one ever expresses how they feel,
until their feelings fade,
and all of a sudden,
there's no need for an explanation,
only broken goodbyes

you get told that you're strong
that you're gonna be okay,
but that's no use at present,
I am going to be okay,
One day - maybe soon -
it's not gonna hurt anymore,
I'll get to fade too

but for now,
I'm sincerely yours,
and that ******* *****.

I am so tired
of being tired
of being scared
of not knowing
what I want
what I need
I am so sleepy
with it all.

Smothered
by encompassing feelings
of doubt
and scrutiny -
knowing my failings,
losing my successes,
I'm struggling
to know what's
mine
and what's not
I'm trying
to be the best I can be
to rid myself
of the selfishness
that I hold
to be content
with my lack
of substance.

I used to seek answers,
to unsaid questions,
to incessant ponderings,
of the world in which we live in.

I used to fill the world with my voice,
never stopping,
hesitating,
for my greatest fear
was something far bigger than heights;
it was the silence.

The illusion was unmasked,
and at once,
I understood
why those questions were left
unanswered.

And now,
I find myself basking in the silence,
breathing it in,
trapping the words inside;
leaving them to roam within the confines
of my intricate road map.

The silence assures me,
that underneath the tangle of human complication,
of man-made solidarity,
the world is still a simple
silent
place.

Someone,
pressed their lips against my own,
a while back,
and
they were the first to do so.

Someone,
was as lost as I was
for a change,
and
they forgot a lot of it the next day,
same as I.

Someone,
has left me confused,
not in feeling,
for I know that
it was encased with inebriation
and not filled with regret,
merely delicately etched with it.

No
Someone,
has rendered me lost,
because before I knew I deserved nothing,
and
now I'm wondering why there's nothing more.

Someone,
took away my assurance,
that I would always be
alone
and has enclosed me
in a sea of doubt and hope
that I wish I could shake.

I guess
I just
Want to feel something;
Anything really -

Fingertips tracing,
Lips meeting,
Touch after touch
Eyes searching,
Cheeks flushing

I guess
I just
Want to be something;
Anything really -

Alive,
Broken,
Torn apart
Engulfed,
Important

I guess
I just
Want something to happen;
No, not something,
It
Whatever 'it' is

someone told me once,
that I write from the soul,
and bleed from the heart -
at the time I just brushed past it,
my mind occupied by other trivial things

and then someone else said,
you can only have an initial reaction to something once,
and it's only in that moment that true sparks will form

and I realised,
I skipped my chance to react to what he said,
simultaneously understanding the last thing he said to me,
'I too can be my own worst enemy'.

Who knows (cares) if they entangle themselves with the right person:
No one ever pays real attention to the cards they've been dealt;
They merely focus upon the strength of the hand,
They simply look for a way to win, or to hold on at the very least -
For in the end it does not matter
whether the stars have all aligned,
as you only need enough light to power the moon through to sunrise

Take my hand
Let's get away from here;
Let us escape the intensity,
That is reality.
Let us wander:
Into the realms of imagination,
The spectacles of fantasy,
Stopping not once.
To reach the light, we must travel through the dark
Past the broken hearts
Past the sorrowed days
The dark is immense.
Past the antecedent
We walk through the perils of life
Of love, if it exists,
This is an uncertain time.

At last, the light approaches,
We reach the area of escapism,
But alas it's tampered
With the remnants of solace.

I wish I was well-versed,
in the sacred art of fading,
it really sounds quite beautiful.

From what I can gather,
fading allows you to be in 'love' one day,
and empty the next -
void of any emotions towards the once golden girl,
whose light is now a meagre amber; yellowing fast.

there's an awful lot going on around me,
and most days I love it,
this last year has been the best and the worst

but sometimes,
I can feel it creeping over me,
this overwhelming itch that can
not be scratched
it sinks deep below the surface
it's this niggling feeling that everything is the best
and the worst

there's so much going on all the time
life has a habit of feeling like a
dichotomy
one second you're so high and everything is
the best; people, love, experiences
and the next you're plummetted and reminded of
the worst; yourself

as a writer, the reconciliation of the two sides is
the best and the worst