Falling...

That’s the easy part.
It’s beyond your control really.
Like a mat being pulled from under you.
Or tripping over something as obscure as a centimetre rise on the pavement.

And as you fall, you can’t deny the excitement and exhilaration as your heart quickens.
Adrenalin courses through your system in a feeble attempt to heighten your reflexes and realign your senses...

Just so you could perhaps stop yourself from getting hurt.

But you also know that you can’t fight the laws of physics and the fact that you’re not a cat.
So you can’t help but submit fully to that moment of defeat.

Now you’ve slammed into the ground.
Tasted dirt...
And rubbed faces, knees and elbows with the harshness of the earth.

If you do get up,
would you be ever so careless again?




I’d watch where I was going if I were you.

Heartbreak is only
the time that exists between
two eras of love.

i am in awe when i look at you
not at your flame and your feathers
but rather the way you choose to sever the tethers
people tried to use to bind you to the idea of who they thought you were
and rather than get caught up in their perceptions
you chose instead to rise from the ashes of those misconceptions
alight and alive with new purpose
without a trace or shadow of what you left behind
the old you was incinerated, turned to ashes in the fire of your passions
as you recreated yourself
a man of ambition
whose intelligence and tenacity
veracity
burn so bright you can't even look right at him

you remade yourself into who you wanted to be
did the thing that so many others strive and fail to
and somehow it's like you forget how far you've come
because the man i'm talking to, he has no idea how to be kind to himself
how to silence the voices within him that lie
and tell him that he is not enough, doesn't do enough, will never be enough

remember whenever those whispers start up
that say you're a loser, a disgrace, not enough
that when i look at you i am truly inspired
by the events in your past that i know have transpired
leading up to this transformation that begs the comparison
between you, my friend, and a mythical bird
both reborn from a ghost of who you were
into a fiery beacon of hope, inspiration
remember that it was all you and your ambition that led to this recreation

"choose to be happy for

the

stars

are always shining

even behind dark clouds"

on breezeless, cold-kissed nights,
where my finger spun into your hair,
where i tried to create webs around the bony joints,
you lay motionless,
underneath a halcyon sun,
trying to gather warmth,
trying to gather something more than my hands could give.

you spoke tender,
voice breakable,
and i didn’t speak at all.

on charcoal painted streets,
where the yellow matched the gold in your eyes,
where trees lay dead lost things on the side,
where your eyes wandered to them
like an adrift soul,
in desire of being rediscovered.

you picked wilted flowers,
And gone gilt grass.
I ached for you to pick me, instead.

you crept along side me like a shadow,
blind to my wanting eyes,
my settled smile.

the rain didn’t fix us,
the sun didn’t mend you,
the perished daisies just served to your broken hand like a band-aid.

But it was always more than I could give you.

It was always more than my battered self could offer.

who took away your softness
and made you feel
the harshness of the ocean?

who took your tide away?

your lips tasted of salt once.
but the blue dye of your
ocean has begun to fade.

you were then,
so plump and mighty.
but today you lie flat
in the shallowest of
water.

tangled in the algae,
gathered by
your fingers.

Sorry I can't
hear you any
—more.
I think we're

breaking up.


I think we're

breaking down
each other.