Water bottles
Kept at his bedside like the empty memories that he keeps "just cause"

The red curtains, just like his heart, drape across the sleeve of his jacket.
They help to keep the world out
Cause red is said to attract the bull, right?
The last thing he needs is another blow to the head from an angry animal
Yet that is all he craves

The feeling of his warm, rough finger tips tracing my skin almost tells the story of an ex lover
She was gentle but firm
It was obvious that she had been worked and that was taking it's toll on her
On him

In the midst of this
The hairs on his arms danced their way across to mine
As if moving to the rythm of my breathing
Our bodies merged in to a new song
The sound of his heart and mine began to blend in harmony
He begins to forget the lyrics to his old favourite song

The heart
Time is said to heal it
But the empty look in his eyes can't possibly hide the pain that still lies within his
The eyes are the windows to the soul
But for me,
He sees no point in the frames

The tears
 that drag themselves down his face begin to appear
when he unfurls her name from his lips
As if they thought they would never be freed

It's 2am and the rain is shouting at the window
Begging to be let in
It's been so long since he was vulnerable to someone
Something
The idea of his clothes sticking to his body seems to terrify him
"I will never let anything cling to me or get close to me again."

The bellowing silence created an elephant in the room

No matter how many times the question is asked
There is the same answer
"I'm fine"
But are you?
When the only time you feel safe is behind the the red curtain
Next to the water bottles
Kept at the bedside
like the empty memories that you keep
"Just cause".

But this is me, and I'm sat thinking on my balcony of how when I make a typo and it replaces it with a different word, that maybe that word is meant to be replaced and I'm meant to live my life the complete opposite way, like it needs to be replaced with the opposite.
I'm sat with trees facing this wooden chair, each branch swaying at a different time in the delicate winds of Turkey, Kemer, and how each branch sways for a reason, not because of the wind -
Maybe the wind is a voice, and it orders each branch to sway at a certain time, whispering in their ear and ordering them to do so.
It's strange isn't it? The way the mind works, the way that mine does at least.
I believe that nothing of nature happens because of nature, just the the swaying of a tree branch doesn't sway because of the wind.
I believe in spirits and what not, I believe that they are in everyone, everything.
I believe that we are a Sim of a spirit that some may call God, a product of him and his doings or "creations".
I believe that some how, a spirit is in each individual living thing, whether it be a human, animal or plant.
I believe that when something moves, it is a sign, when a stranger smiles, it is a sign, when the wind turns the page of a book it is is sign - it is a sign the the spirit of the wind is telling us that we need to turn to the next page in our lives, to live and breathe the next chapter, to appreciate and love what we are next to discover.
Call me crazy, but I believe that right now I am narrating my life, my mind, leaving out no detail to add to the over working imagination, the fast pacing thoughts that strike the mind and the feelings that touch the soul.
I believe that the life I am living has already been out lived and has expired, leaving me to only think that I have lived and loved and experienced such a life that I have already once lived.
Afterlife? I think not.
I believe that the after life is only true in a sense that we get multiple chances to narrate our lives, just like Chinese whispers, each time it changes slightly, therefor giving the illusion of a new life and explaining all happenings of de ja vu.
We are made up of atoms, many many items which makes us, us. But we all share from the same atom pool, therefor we are all a part of eachother, and when one says that they don't understand another... They do, but they are not using the power inside that they have to dig deeper and realise.
We all share from the same atom pool, therefor we all have a part of people like Anne Frank and Martin Luther King inside us.
What we all have in common?
A hope for freedom
A right to fight for it.
That's what we need, just freedom, some living, breathing spirit to allow us live our lives the way we wish.
But we are held, we are held by society and their opinions.
There's a man with black skin and his hood up, is he a ****?
Maybe.
But that's the problem, just because someone may or not fit a certain stereotype, doesn't mean we have the right to force it upon them.
If we have the freedom to belittle and stereotype, then they have the freedom to do as they please and prove us right or wrong within our accusations.
Call me crazy, but I believe in life itself, and there is more to a tree branch swaying in the wind.

It's like we're all holding a piece of something that's broken,
and my piece is just too heavy for me,
soon enough it's just going to crush me.
I wish someone would save me...

I still see her
She is everywhere
She lies between each word of the books I read

Her breath ripples between each whistle of the wind

Her words are the thing strangling me each time I dare to speak

She is the gleam in his eyes when we argue
She is the strength in every punch I throw and every slap I launch.
She is the tone in my voice,
in what I say when I choke from being bitter and agitated

She is everywhere.

She is the blade that I keep locked away in the box
She is the thin piece of torture that gets right under my skin

She is the thought before and after every meal
She is the knife cutting through before every agonising bite
She is the sweet and sour substance that balances on my spoon,
Filling me up with insults and low self worth

She is the feeling I get when I am intoxicated
Sick, dizzy, angry

She is in every step I take, the dreaded trip to my every destination

She is in every rain drop, the splatting of the water are my feelings as she has my heart in her hands

She is in me,
In every rumble of my stomach,
In every thought that rattles in my head
In every word that I speak
In every blink of my eyes

In every smile that I fake
In every breath I take
She is there,
She is forever within me,
She is everywhere.