Told to look to the future,
But only seeing the past.
Told to keep moving on,
But always turning back.
Told that looks don't matter,
But judged on first impressions.
Told to be unique,
But forced into others' intentions.
Told to innovate,
But creativity shot down.
Told to be accepting,
But hated for praying aloud.
Told to be honest,
But fed the media's lies.
Told to love,
But watches as it dies.

So, are you happy now?
Pleased with what you've done?
Pressure, hate and prejudice,
Destroy the innocence of the young.

Love

The rhythm hits me first,
Off-beat, syncopated, unpredictable,
Yet I find my foot tapping in perfect time,
My body synchronised with an ever-changing pulse.

Then the bass,
Driving, moving forward, eager,
I find my legs moving with it,
My body pulled by a promise of more.

Then the chords,
Dissonant, unresolved, uncertain,
Yet my ears enjoy every one,
My body desperate to understand the logic behind them.

Then the melody,
Haunting, minor, hesitant,
Yet my eyes are drawn to those that sing,
My body overwhelmed with bare emotion.

Then the lyrics,
Hopeful, free, safe,
And I find myself singing along,
To a song I didn't know, but that resonates in my heart.

How can I write about motionless, unfeeling, empty white walls?
You write about your unchanging, cold, blank mind
How can I write about slammed, unrelenting, locked white doors?
You write about your crushing, unobtainable, closed-off heart
How can I write about falling, unstoppable, restricting white ceilings?
You write about your deadly, unfair, judging mouth
How can I write about a room that doesn't hold me?
*You write about your past

Longing for the dark,
Longing for the cold air on my skin,
Wishing for the night to engulf me,
Fill me with it's emptiness.
Not because I'm sad,
Not because I'm depressed,
Not because I want the end,
But to remind me that this is real.
I don't need what I have already,
I want some of what I'm missing now.
I want a reminder of who I used to be,
Of how much better I am now.

So night, show me the dark.
So I can appreciate the light.

Leave me be,
I never felt anything for you,
Nothing close to what I feel for her now.
You believe you own me?
Well back off,
I belong to one, and one alone.
She actually cares
She actually listens
So don't think for a second you can compete with her.
You can call me 'traitor'
You can accuse me of heartbreak,
Betrayal and cruelty are words that do not cross my mind.
Leave me be
Let me love

The last pair of eyes,
Reflect my heavy heart,
As the last, sorry words,
Crush my grateful smile.

The final one who cares,
Leaves my life again.

I return to join The Coldest.

The end of gentle words,
To calm my panicked mind,
The end of just in time,
To stop me doing the worst.

The only saving grace,
Has nothing left to give.

I return to join The Coldest.

Another one has gone,
Away from my unrest,
Another loss is blamed on me,
Despite my desperate attempts.

With no reason to try,
I pursued and missed my goal.

I return to join The Coldest,
But a new flame has been lit.

When I am lost, I fly away.
When I am lost, I escape.
When I am lost I stay lost,
I treasure a moment so rare, so precious.
I run away with it, yearning for relief, a place with no boundaries.
A place where anything is possible.
In that moment, all is clear.

When I sweep through the air, no rules hold me back.
When I twist and turn in endless dance, all pain is forgotten.
When I burst through empty skies, there is no reason to worry.

I lose myself,
my heart and mind and soul,
lost in winds that swirl around me.
No troubles weigh me down as I soar,
higher, further, reaching, grasping for hope.
A hope that stays with me, after my flight is ended.

A warm uplift, I climb yet further, yearning for love.
Love that stays with me, for as long as I live.

A strong tailwind, I push on, travelling faster, accelerating, chasing after strength.
Strength that holds me up, pushing against the weight of fear.

The wind drops, I glide, spiralling downward, gliding, surrounded by peace.
Peace that no one else will ever know, but that dominates my heart.

*When I am lost, I am free.

I'm afraid of safety, I'm afraid of help.
I'm afraid of telling anyone else.
I don't want sympathy, I don't want you to care.
I just want to be alone and pull out my hair.

But still you seem to try, you keep telling me "No,"
"You must listen, keep your chin up, I'm not going to go."
I'm fine on my own, I don't need you any more.
I tell you, leave me be, stop turning up at my door.

Then the darkness returns, and you're nowhere around.
I regret what I said in that stupid little row.
Forget all the moaning, forget my ill-chosen words.
I promise I didn't mean it, all of that was absurd.

Though I hate to admit it, and strange as it sounds,
Things always seem darker when you're not around.
You were right, I was wrong, you win, end of game,
I was foolish, especially knowing you've been through the same.

Though all along I told myself: I prefer to be alone,
I was missing by a mile and you got it in one.
What I really need now, is not solitude or pain,
But just a message asking "Are you alright?" again.

*Thank you and keep trying, ignore my deadly rage,
What I really need I had all along, a friend about my age.

As each drop falls,
A thousand eyes cry.

As howling winds blow,
A thousand hearts are frozen over.

As piercing bolts strike,
I know that hate has taken all my love.

Maybe one day this storm will blow over,
Maybe one day I'll see light again.
But can a storm end,
When it is all you know?
Can clouds part,
If you don't want to see through?

It takes more than one day,
To change a heart.
The warmth of the sun needs time,
time to thaw the depths of my soul.
It takes longer than I have,
to rewrite my never ending story.

As each drop falls,
My anger is washed away.

As howling winds blow,
It rips away the mask I hide behind.

As piercing bolts strike,
I feel an energy within.


Is it enough to change me?

Maybe.

Is it enough to save me?

No.

But it is enough to keep me going,
Long enough to try again.

The knife in my side,
The blood on my hands,
The hole in my mind,
The loss I can't stand.

I follow the fear,
Towards a new start,
As more cracks appear,
In my blackened heart.

A pathway of pain,
It leads me onwards,
I don't care if I'm broken inside,

But what if I can't,
Pick up all the pieces,
Of those I've hurt and those who've died?

I try to escape,
The depths of my heart,
Riddled with holes from Anger's cold spear.

What if I caused,
More hate than I feel?
What if there's no way back from here?

There's no way back,
And to those I've hurt,
I'm sorry,
Don't forgive me.

He lies awake,
Unfeeling, yet hurting,
Unseeing, but staring into the nothingness that surrounds him.
He remembers his mistakes,
He remembers his regrets,
And asks the dark to remain.

He lies awake,
Free and safe,
A smile on his lips, beaming through the nothingness around him.
He remembers his success,
He forgets what others said,
And forces the dark away.

He lies awake,
Trembling, but still,
Afraid, but reaching for the nothingness that’s bound him.
He awaits his demise,
He relives his loss,
And pleads the dark to let him stay.

He lies awake,
Relieved, but untrusting,
Abandoned by the nothingness that found him.
He remembers his mistakes,
He remembers his regrets,
And asks the dark for one last dance.

How to define a moment,
That happened over time?
How to define the time,
That began before your mind?
How to know your own mind,
When you're stuck rethinking things through?
How to escape an endless loop,
That was never tight, but loose?

Can something grow,
If it's as big as it can be?
Can water flow,
From the lowest point in the sea?
Can fear know,
When there are no more boundaries?
Can travellers go,
Beyond what their mind's eye sees?

If love is supposed to be beautiful,
Why is love blind?
Maybe it's selfless, giving something it can never have itself.
If hate is supposed to blacken your heart,
Why is anger red?
Maybe anger drains your heart of blood, and hate is what remains.
If life is supposed to be bountiful,
Why does it always end?
Maybe it's to teach us to make the most of our time.
If death is supposed to be final,
Why do we mourn?
Maybe it gives our mind time to detach itself from the lost.

Questions are what make us human,
Or is it the journey to answer them?
Or the answers themselves?
Or maybe it doesn't matter, as long as we have another question to ask.

How long is a moment?
How slowly can we live it?
And how full of questions can it be?