late nights
cold walls
calming skies
all the stars
watching us
while we sit
and talk
about the secrets
in our hearts
and heavy thoughts
in our minds,
It’s comfort.
just you and me
and the stars we see

it’s moments like these
unexpected
where i don’t recognise myself
is this really me
on the dance floor
singing along?
is this really me
seeking conversations and
people all day long?
11 days
and plenty connections later
i feel like i learned more
than i could ever have taught
about myself

and the father told the son
"you are more
than i could ever have become"

what does creativity
mean?
is it pulling words
out of the air
and forming them
into rhyming pairs
or is it taking
what's inside my mind
and carefully placing it
for the world
to see?

living.
it's an act
of rebellion

i don’t fight
to be remembered
I fight
so no one else is being forgotten
and they live
to be themselves

Maybe
instead of falling apart
we should try
tearing apart
this world
and set fire
to the ones
that burnt us