I made my life an arrow,
The tip a deadly sharpened point,
So people never came so close,
That I may disappoint.
I'd sit and watch in silence,
As the world would pass me by,
Wondering how far I'd fall,
If I ever tried to fly.

You watched me with such interest,
Like it was me you'd tried to find,
You knew all of my secrets,
And the thoughts within my mind,
And you still loved me.

You looked like all the others,
But what I did not know;
Was while I'd made myself an arrow,
You had made yourself a bow,
And apart we'd both been useless.

But we'd finally worked out why;
Since you need someone to pull you back,
If you ever want to fly.
So you aimed me with precision,
And I flew straight from the start,
Until I landed with a solid thud,
On the target of your heart.

I contain infinities,
Endless oceans,
Limitless heavens.

I am a meadows of flowers,
Wizened trees bent against brutal winds,
Tempestuous volcanoes and storms.

I am a secret wish whispered at twilight,
A scrap of hope tossed away at midnight,
A blazing dream become reality at dawn.

I contain infinities,
But everyone is content,
When I tell them I am just,
okay.

I’ve fallen in love with nothing -
The gentle absence fills me up
With meaningless meaning,
Coating my soul in a comforting
Lack of heat.

The hand I don’t feel can’t cause me pain -
Its ethereal knife cannot make me bleed
And the thrice-forgotten name
Cannot give me what I need;
I’ll bury this desire under reason and ice,
For I cannot bear to pay this price
Again.

Razor blade wishes,
Torn from cracked lips.
A self-destructive elegy,
Whimpered with resignation.

Cries for redemption,
Fall silent when they matter most.
All smiles and jokes,
When everyone can hear.

There is darkness within,
And my Sentinel is gone.
Hope bleeds from my heart,
as I walk my life alone.

backs turned to me
all in a row
disappointment resounds
in the emptiness.

i am a hollow cavern
words echo inside me
mere reminders
of another’s words.

footprints cover my soul
but they are not mine
they crisscross and entwine
in a perverse dance.

i cry out in despair and desperation
for i am a vessel for others
but never for myself
and now i am lost.

Happiness lands softly when it comes,
wrapped in a friend’s “I miss you” text,
or a photo on the internet that makes you smile
for the first time in what feels like days.

Happiness, that fleeting feeling of contentment,
ever chased and ever elusive
dancing on the breeze of a perfect day
towards oblivion in the sun’s hot rays.

We do the best we can
while we wait for happiness to visit.
Drudging through the bad times
with the faint hope and promise of joy someday.

I remember your eyes in shades of brown,
Blended with a graceless brush
Into painless anonymity.

I remember your hair as a mass of lines,
Ruled and drawn in stuttered strokes
That no longer mean a thing to me.

I remember your smile as a flash of white,
Imprinted upon faded polaroids
In caustic sprays of ink.

I remember the blankness,
The raging torrent of icy fire,
That burnt its way into my soul
With a bitter bite.

I remember the comfort of the floor,
And the echo of the slam,
That's still ringing through my mind.

You know how things change?
Putting a name to something, or knowing a story changes everything.

I wish you knew how I felt.
I wish you knew how I yearn for your attention.

If I was just someone else, with the same story, the same talents, but not the same name;

You would love me. You would not look at me the way you do now.

You would perhaps yearn for my attention, too.

When I was young you told me not to touch the fire,
Or I would burn my fingers.

That was a long time ago and you failed to warn me,
That people have fire inside their souls as well,
And theirs is more enticing.
It is more dangerous,
Than a paltry candle flame will ever be.

Footprints line the harshest ground;
Signs that life can spread and grow,
No matter what might bring it low.
The bells chime once, and no one makes a sound.
A nations stands together for a day,
Joined as one beneath a single name;
How odd it is to see the world this way.
Sorrow helps us realise we’re the same.
He took their pain and turned it into joy,
Chose sacrifice to show them what was wrong;
He made a mark that time cannot destroy,
And taught the people how to sing love’s song.
I hope we haven’t found his path too late;
Love comes to us more naturally than hate.

I hide my thoughts, I hide my strengths.
I carry this disease, the weight of the Holy Ghost.
God, can you hear me? God is missing.

This is it, I tell myself. This is the moment I have been waiting for.
The moment where my colours burst, the instance where the waves crash.
But I am wrong, I cannot move.  It's me against myself.

I can only hope that God is listening.
Is He listening?

(c.m.h)

It just hits him sometimes. He was fine one minute, and then all at once, his mind would begin rearranging itself, like jigsaw pieces forcefully fitting together to form a puzzle he was never able to make sense out of.

His thoughts were doses of potent psychedelics, and when he would share them with you, he would lure you in and meticulously detach you from reality.

His voice was monotone, but listening to him speak made you feel like you were floating. Every syllable, every word, lessened the earth’s gravitational pull, every sentence lifted you further off the ground.

Sometimes I would look into his eyes and see nothing but dread, and sometimes I wanted to reach into the depths of his being and drag his demons out, but they had already built a home inside of him.

When his tragedies would bleed through his body, he would collect the blood in jars and use the red to paint self-portraits, and when he would burst with anger, he would rattle the core of the earth, and everything around you trembled.

I tried to love the pain out of him, but to no avail, because it seemed like the pain had become him, and if I were to love the pain out of him, then I would love his soul away.