Kissing you set a fire burning so deep inside me
I felt like I was wasting any minute of my life I spent doing anything else.
Repetitive thoughts, my whole world. On and on and on,
A time bomb in the foundation.
An extended spring sprouting false hope; a vision of perfection.
But when I stripped it all away, what was left?
Only the wind on my face and the light from the moon.
And it’s only now, looking up at the stars that I realise;
People don’t have that kind of beauty.

I think sometimes we just need to pause. To breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the air on your skin. To just take a moment and not focus on anything but that breath. Nothing else matters. Take in your surroundings. You are here, in this moment right now, so experience it. Don't waste it thinking about past or future moments. Now is all that matters.

I never knew what the world would hold for me as a child, I didn't know real freedom. How it feels to just pack a bag and do anything. Yeah, everything was fresh and innocent, and I suppose that is something I miss from time to time, but there is real beauty in growing up. The ability to make decisions and feel the change they make in the world, the thrill of risk and the real excitement that comes with success and change. Although one thing that never has changed is my passion for adventure. As a child, finding adventure in the smaller, simpler things, and now, real adventure with no limitations or boundaries. Freedom.

Blossoming and blooming;
Blushing for the light.
Bright in a valley only filled with night.
A still ocean, undisturbed,
Harbouring beauty and warmth.

A single drop hitting the ground,
Opening the sky of fear and doubt;
Before the uncontrollable storm sets in on the rocks
and shakes, shakes, shakes.

The flower is faded now;
Chewed up and spit out.
Ripped, snatched;
Shaken. Shaped by brutal surroundings.
A charcoal mess; as the dying remain of endless wasted potential.
Cold; as a sharp slice of ice.
Damaged and damaging alike.

Could I be the blossom tree
Or the daisy, or sunflower.
To lie in that light,
To see the eyes devour.

Or could I be the dying ****
Beneath those feet,
Reluctantly.

Could I be-
What could I be?
We'll have to wait and see.

it's dark and it's cold so we put our coats and scarves and gloves on before we
leave the house and catch the first train we can find to a city where we watch our
breath like little clouds in front of us and smoke and kiss and find a building to
climb to the roof and sit and drink until we are tipsy while we watch the world
and feel like we are on top of everything and think we are invincible and we hold hands
and kiss some more and talk about everything possible until the sun comes up over
the skyline when we climb back down and get a train home and climb into bed
together and tangle into each other then fall asleep for the rest of the day

a mysterious clock
hanging in the sky
by day the sun takes over
and by night the moon is shy
she whispers very gently,
and the sun extends his ear
wishing that it will be a confession of love that he will hear

but the sun hears nothing
of the confession the moon had made,
as he is swiftly moving out of touch
and the darkness throws it's shade,
once again the moon is lonely
yet doesn't break all night
"out of reach you may be,"
she whispers
"but at least i can bask in your light..."

a tragic love
a pitiful fate,
as their hearts drift away,
the sun sees her empty eyes
still looking at him,
patiently,
wistfully,
painfully,
whimpering

and as the cycle restarts
of moments cut too short,
nights and days will pass
hoping,
longing,
yearning for each other
whilst creating a world of light and beauty
still repaid with a constant heartache,
a hand of love so bittersweet
even for the most worthy of beings

love is a torturous cycle
that the sun and his loving moon
are forever entangled in