we talked about our dreams -
as if they were stars
we could pluck out
from the sky,
like we could reach for them
anytime
to hold
in our hands.

You're a little like a shipwreck and I think you lost your heart amidst all the piles of rust and dust and I tried to help you by looking for it but everything was so dark and I couldn't find a light, so I tried looking in your eyes but there was nothing there.
You lost your mind a few years ago and I don't think you've ever really been the same. Your eyes used to hold an eternity of light, but now they're darker than the darkest of nights.
You treat your body like a canvas and it looks like you're trying to draw a map, I always knew you were lost but I couldn't figure out where you were, maybe you're lost inside yourself, and I don't know where your map is planning to take you but I hope you get out okay and I hope it's nicer than where you are now.
You look like you're made out of paper and you are so fragile I can't remember the last time I touched you because everything I touch seems to break and I couldn't do that to you.
You have power lines surging through your veins but you're breaking them one by one, so I guess you're not happy with them anymore. You leave cracks all along them and let the energy leak out.
You're like a minefield and I honestly don't know how to work my way around you anymore. I've had years of practice but you suddenly switched and now everything is different and I can't navigate you in the dark.
You started to do things that I do a few months back. Now you stand by me while I light things on fire, because I guess it's better than lighting myself on fire.
You stand by me while I stand on the edges of cliffs, my arms open and my head back, staring at the sky and wondering if I could make myself fly. I don't really want to, I just want to jump. But if I stepped off the edge, I would want you to fly.
And I don't really know which is worse, the look on your face when you know I'm not really there, or the look on your face when you suddenly realised you weren't either.
I'm still looking for your heart, but I think it has been swept away, I'm sorry, but never mind, you took mine anyway.

we are obsessed with making every moment count and we are hardwired to believe that the best days of our lives – the ones we’ll shabbily reconstruct from memory when we’re old and wrinkly – are the ones we’re living now.

It's 11pm and
I still haven't eaten yet,
been drinking
alcohol and coffee
to fill my stomach.
Maybe you'll love me better
if I was prettier, skinnier,
if I just wasn't me.
Your name is in the bottom
of every bottle, your lips
are stained where my mouth
falls on this cup of coffee,
and your breath is falling
out of my cigarettes and
into my mouth.

The first line iced with hope; straight from the heart.
Melody striving to impress; the sound of a fresh start,
The world would hear the latent pain- only they listened closely.
And maybe in those happy lyrics, they would see the irony.

No, never with their minds; they only listened with their ears.
Only heard her 'happy' melody; never her unspoken fears.
Sung too many times, her chorus had lost its charm.
'Encore. Encore. It can't possibly do you any harm.'

The winds yelled cruelly, the clouds roared with fury and might.
Trials and tribulations; the universe always ready to pick a fight.
There was no exit from this world- this battlefield of horror,
Where soldiers trudged unarmed, yet unscathed never.

Nostalgia struck; breaking through her unfortified mind.
The prettiest of smiles on her lips; it was time to rewind.
There was no audience; not a soul around to stare.
Singing on the road sans inhibition, she had not a care.