It's been too long since the last time you held a pen, your mind has been bleached and your veins are on fire. Every second you change and become someone different form te crease on your lip to the dimples on your back. It's been hours since you last thought of happy things. Days since you've coloured in your missteps, months since you last thought of death, years since you lost the hope you were desperate to hold on to. Are your palms still bleeding from your nails sinking into them? Are your eyes still swollen from the tears that form because of the ache in your chest? Is your throat still dry because of the stomach acid that just left your body? Are you still holding on?

And you wonder where everything went wrong; when did you start to feel like this? Why does everything feel so much heavier now? Your breaths are shallow and your back is sore. You barely have the energy to stand now. How far are you planning to go with this? How much longer can you last?

It's how I spend most of my nights now,
a light glow, heady and heavy smoke
a glass always half full

Contrast in the way I love
loud music, dense crowds
never an empty glass in hand

Clarity is the worst
pounding head and dry eyes
dehydrated

Company doesn't love misery
and misery is not unchecked at the door
it is restless and moving

Always moving
    always moving
         always moving

She left her heart behind
He let his heart go
It's half full
It's half full of misery
of the lack of you

Illusive, enigmatic you

It's how I spend most of my nights now,
a light glow, heady and heavy smoke
a glass always half full

*Tell me again

How many times have you been down this road?
The flickering lampposts,
the littered sidewalks,
the uneven road

How many times have you seen that same reflection
in the abandoned shop window?
The lost faces,
the crushed spirit,
the lack of life

How many times have you heard this song play?
The repetition,
hushed whispered undertones,
the reminder of him
of them

How many times have you danced to this tune?
The rifts and crescendos,
lilting melodies,
tales of sin in a hymn

I remember the sunshine in your eyes and the pale moonlight on your skin and the only thought in my head would be, "Am I dreaming? Is he really here?."

It's been four months since I last saw you. Four months since I've heard your voice. Four months since I last touched you. Four months since my heart broke apart.

I remember first seeing you, under the shelter of our school. You sat right in from of me and asked for my name and introduced yourself to me.

I remember being alone with you, blanketed by the stars, and our own bubble of comfort. You would ask me every time we met, "When can I see you again?"

But I couldn't live in the shadows and in the world we created for ourselves. I couldn't look at you and not be irrevocably in love. I couldn't be with you one day and be without you for months on end only to come up for air when your arm is around my waist.

For six years there was love and for six years there were secrets. For six years you fooled yourself and for six years, you made a fool of me.

We were kids hoping for happy endings that never came with an expiry date. God forbid we still hope for it now. But knowing you was my blessing, and having my love was yours.

You said to me that there were things we just couldn't change, that there was no point in pursuing what we wanted. You said to me that our hope was a fool's errand and that our denial was a temporary bliss.

I said to you that I couldn't decide if I wanted to punch you in the face or kiss you. I said to you that we could still be friends. But how do you befriend a rose with thorns for petals and how do you befriend the person who had your love most.

You were the saviour of my soul and the thorn in my heart. My only regret is I never kissed you and your only regret is that you didn't fight for us.

I still wear that ring you gave me in a warm September afternoon. Once I take it off, it'll be over. Irreversibly over.

There's been a lot of debate lately. Something about the whisper and another about ghost limbs and ghost touch and all I can truly say is that winter was warmer than it ever was this year and summer was downright chilly. Things haven't been going the right way up or the right way down and it just feels like an envelope of air that I can't escape, a sterile environment that leaves skin untouched and hearts unblemished by the difficulty of opening your eyes with the rising of the sun. And it all started when you turned away and with every step you took in that direction flowers wilted on the other side of the world when they ought to have been blooming and the ice caps dripped into the ocean, it triggered the spontaneous combustion of a leaf atop some place in the amazon and a butterfly flew into the window. I know I could tell you that the correlation between every step you took and these bizarre events in nature didn't exist but it just isn't how I see it. Bad things happen every day but they echoed over and over and over and over the day you stopped looking at me like I had stars in my eyes. You clenched your fists and it was like you had my heart in your palm that day. Then there was the day the sky fell and the clouds cried and the sun screamed through the winds; it was also the day you walked away. The day the ground fell away. And since then I've been breathing in ash and drinking poison in an effort to wash away my grief. Since then the sky has turned blue and black and yellow. Since then the glass is always emptied and the bed is never made. You were the chains the bound and the scissors in the opening ceremony. I was never a searing footprint in the ground, I was only a faded picture tacked on the cork board in your childhood home that you burnt down years ago.