I think maybe
I write poetry
To not feel so alone.

I think maybe
I write poetry
To figure out my feelings

I think maybe
I write poetry
To feel that I still can

I think maybe
I write because
I want the reassurance
That I was here

You are loved.
In the way you were shaped
From the fires of passion,
A building and formation of life.
A triumphant cry when you saw the light
A proud smile when you took your first step,
Uttered your first word, made your first friend.

You are loved.
In the way you draw breath every second
In the way you blink to chase droughts away
And when your face breaks into a grin,
I can feel the sun rise from a dark abyss.

You are loved.
In the way the wind sings your name
In the way that girl you love gives you her secret smiles
And when your feet hit the Earth with every step,
Like every heartbeat, in which the soil and grass have memorised.

You are loved.
Don’t you feel the sun kiss your cheeks?
Embrace the cold, and the warmth, and everything in between
Today, you shake hands with the rain and snow
Then you welcome back the flowers tomorrow

You are loved.
In the way you exist in this moment in time,
Every breath, every smile, every second of your being
A trace and footprint, a mark in this world
A world of many violent and jealous others,
Who scream and tear and drag you down

But can’t you feel the world,
The song and laughter and tears and whispers
Of every molecule in this planet, in this ******* galaxy?
They’re singing, shouting, chanting the same:
You are loved, you are loved
You exist and matter because, yes,
You are loved.

When I press myself to something
I can feel my lonely heart beating
A steady rhythm in my chest
A knock-knock-knock against my breast

Am I going to open up
Like a treasure chest of gold?
For all its glamour, I’d be fine
But I’d be too **** easily sold

Or shall I cautiously crack
Open the door of my being?
To peer out first and assess the person,
But is it truth I’ll be seeing?

A risk to take – I go for the latter
There’s nobody on the other side
Just a mirror, showing me all of myself
A reflection I cannot shy away from or hide

And this mirror, it’s brutally honest
I see all my parts – the dark and the light
Do I slam the door back on myself?
It’s a beautifully terrible sight

Would I sell myself, this real version of me?
This stripped and complete one nobody will see?
I press myself to the mirror of my reflection
And hear my heart beat against my own confession.

This is the cruelty of love
Which gives generously
Only to take it away
Half a second later.

This is the flaw of love
Time, which could not be grasped
Always chasing, thinking you have forever
But forever is over so soon.

This is the ugliness of love
When you feel as if you’ve been emptied
Stripped bare, but nobody cares
That you’ve lost everything.

This is the falseness of love
That to love eternally,
Is to have them in flesh until
The end of both your days

This is love,
That gut-wrenching pain
That confusion and anger and denial
And wishing you were dead because
Christ, what have you got to live for now?

Can you believe this is love? This is love.
When the storm of memories fill up your lungs
And you can’t breathe but you welcome death
But death does not come – it does not work that way
That to have a loved one die is to die yourself.

This is love,
What men have pondered over
Turning in their hands, trying to define,
To mould, to shape into something permanent
But love is strung on the thin thread of time,
And I laugh! Because what a joke!

I’m staring into vacant eyes
And I realise
There’s no more time.
No time. No time. No ******* time.
I’d gladly give you some of mine.
But I’d be in shortage, and you’d be in heartbreak
Help us, God, we have no time

Osculate.
To kiss.
An innocent brush
Of two lovers’ lips

A glance into
The other’s wide eyes
A sharp intake of breath
Soft fingers on cheeks

The first taste is always
The purest of all
A gasp against mouth
The tugging of hair

There will never be enough
Not even after you’re out
Of precious breaths
For the best kinds of love and passion,
Steals the air out of your lungs

Yet it will be easy,
As simple as breathing
Just with a new kind of oxygen
The best one we know

Obliterate.
Destroying all
That is innocent
Two sinful souls
Uniting into one

Heavy breaths and
Pleasured gasps
Fingers sliding
Against smooth skin

And the time comes
It’s a giant explosion
The strongest of all
Known human emotions

Osculate.
A simple kiss.
A promising brush
Of two lovers’ lips.

This rule, this law,
This way to walk
This right, this wrong
This way to talk
The unspoken agreements
Written across the sky,
On the surface of the Earth
Yet we never question why.

And that way, that rule
That societal law,
That good, that bad
That old mortal flaw
A prison we created
A cage of our manufacture
What savages we’ve become
From fighting our ‘savage’ nature

That beauty, that ugliness
That worthy, that not
That clever, that foolish –
Each a lie we’ve all bought
Where the hell did they come from?
Who the hell made these rules
If not for ourselves?
We don’t see it – we’re fools.

And there are no profiteers
We’re all just losers here
To not believe it, or to think like them
Is to let yourself be tricked by the system.

I do my hair at night
Play dress up in the dark
Why do I show the best
The prettiest parts of me
In shadows and closed rooms
Where no one else can see?

In the morning, I don’t brush
My dark unruly hair
I don’t powder up my face
To hide my imperfections
Is it the real or ugly side
I’m showing by these actions?

But can’t they all be
One and the same thing?
To be ugly and beautiful
And at once so completely real
It was the way we were made
We changed it to fit our ideals

And I smile behind closed doors
The only real smile I can muster
I laugh at nothing at all
When there’s nobody else around
If I do this out there, I’m crazy
So out there, I make no sound

Why is beauty only found
Behind all these closed doors?
In shadows and hidden corners?
They’re the only real places we are allowed
To be free of ruthless players

I think I know why now.