Tears build up,
The walls grow higher,
A fortress sprawls,
Unassailable,
The rocks that formed its perimeter,
Choke my heart,
As they build higher,
Under no law from me,
No command,
They keep building,
And still I don't know why,
But I fight.

I bombard the construction,
Siege engines roll through my arteries,
Cracks appear,
But I feel no better,
I keep fighting,
Until those impenetrable walls
Fall,
And the tears have nowhere to go,
But to surge to the surface,
And I begin to cry,
And I still don't know why.

Why do my eyes not wish to rest?
At this fading hour,
This dying hour,
Why am I not longing for bed?
Now the hour is almost dead,
And yet still, my eyes protest,
Against abandoning their posts,
Though they have their orders,
They maintain their stubborn watch,
And the hour is slipping away,
Gently, but quickly,
The hour will not stay,
But my eyes will,
They will stay open as long as they can,
As long as willpower is stronger than
The power weakness holds over them.
Why won't you rest?
The hour is but a shadow now,
And now...
No trace,
But my eyes watch,
As the new hour begins.

The first notes,
Rang out,
As I plucked her steel strings.

Finally released,
From her soul,
The song of her dawning.

And oh!
How it soothed!
Dripped gently through the air.

And in a moment,
I was free,
All was happy, all was fair.

A slight shimmer,
Coat the grass in silver,
Gild their edges,
Turn them into blades,
Let the army rise up,
With their weapons drawn,
Against the blinding light,
The great oaks prepare,
Tightening their glinting armour,
Anchoring firm to hold their ground,
The front lines arm themselves,
With concealed spears,
And twisting barricades,
All glazed in white,
But their loyalty lost,
And their blades softened,
Their armour crumbles,
Their spears break,
At the careful,
Whispered breath,
Of the sun's waking.

Rows of metal shells hold our future,
The windows covered in grime and cracked,
Not that anyone would care.

The next generation eats in kitchens of disorder,
Sleeps in the home of chaos,
Wears the clothes of extortion.

***** mouths fuel our world,
Industry propped up by falsehoods,
Empty promises drive us on.

Leave this place,
You do not belong,
Your feet should not touch,
Nor stride nor pace,
On this soil, no mortal feet,
May step or wander,
For here is the place,
Where the Gods meet.

Running, running,
Away from my life,
I throw away my old soul,
Rip out my underused heart,
Tear away my quivering hands,
Untwist my messed up mind,
And find, in front of me,
Darkness.

Stop

Breathe

Look up

And see

An eternity of hope,
For this clean slate,
An infinity of prospect,
So many places to discover,
So many things to achieve,
And behind me,
The dark almost obscures,
The parts of me I don't want,
So nearly gone now,
But still within reach,
Should I ever wish to return,
To the comfort of what I know,
But I know,
That is not what I want,
So I keep,
Running, running,
Away.

The sands scream when they hear my name,
The cliffs bow at my touch,
The ground carves a path for me,
The soil falls away with a single roar,
The living worship me,
The dead are consumed by me,
But still I run,
I do not relish my zenith,
Instead I shy away,
I escape to join the many before,
And hide.

I just want the world to go away.
I admit I am weak,
Not 'resilient' enough to cope,
I shouldn't have to cope,
I want to live and love,
And love to live,
But instead I just want it all to go,
Every sound,
Every scent,
The beauty that I crave,
That drives my pen,
I want it gone.
Every essence of this life,
Is hollow,
And echoes around my head,
I just want the world to go away.

Slowly approaching,
Each second ticks,
S l o w l y
Each minute passes in its own time,
Decided by the inverse of my desires,
With unwanted precision,
The days extend,
Stretched by time itself,
Or my perception thereof,
Beyond a predetermined,
Tensile strength of concepts,
Ripping through all,
Our shattered principles,
In slow motion,
But instantly,
Crushed,
And,
Lost.
.
.
.
Time
Takes
Too
Long
.
.
.
.
­Time
Waits
Too
Long
.
.
.
.
.
Only
One
Time
Matters
.
.
.
.
.
.
*­Now

Light streams in,
As we sing joyful songs,
And make them boring,
At half-speed,
But we don't care,
Because today,
Happiness, hope and love,
Are all that's on our minds,
And it feels...
Amazing.

A buzz in my pocket halfway through physics,
A glance at the screen under the desk,
4 letters and I'm there:
Unlock, swipe, tap, type
And revealing the name I waited for.
Halfway through physics, 2 weeks before Christmas, offer 4 of 5.
My passion, my motivation, my drive -
My future, secure.

It's strange how bright the darkness shines,
Without logic, or care or sense.
Only laughter remains for us,
And sweet crazy grins,
And skipping for no real reason but,
We can.

It's odd how conversations stream,
From awkward to flowing to too long,
But always they lead to,
Hurting ribs from,
Gold-hazed moments,
Of simple bliss.

It's weird how things end up,
Always the same but never the same,
Journey getting there,
Always a goodbye, departure,
No matter how hard to leave,
Separate again,
We always must,
Until next time.

And slowly growing,                                                         ­  And quickly lost,
Behold my mind,                                                            ­    Rebuild my mind,
Crawling with doubts and fear,              Construct with patience and joy,
Panicked, rushed ageing,                                   Considered, careful youth,
To cope,                                                            ­                                      To love,
To forget,                                                          ­                                  To thrive,
To move on,                                                              ­                           To keep,
To extinguish the corruption,                      To maintain a new innocence,
Or disguise it with worse,                                    And protect it with smile,
My head filled with dark,                                         Cross my shaking lips,
Emptiness,                                                 ­                                         Freedom,
Swimming in twisting mess,                            Running wherever I please,
Knots of double-helix,                                           Imagined strands of hair,
Tied to keep myself,                                                  Let down to let myself,
Separate from myself.                                                  Escape from my past.

I am halted,
In my falling,
My head turned,
To the glory,
Of the sky.

I am rescued,
From my fated,
Decline into,
The darkest days,
Of my heart.

I am restored,
From the shadow,
Of a tired,
Struggling soul,
To new love.

I am unchained,
Free to survey,
The beauty of,
Daylight's dancing,
Across clouds.

I am afraid,
That over years,
Or lonely nights,
My joy will fade,
And perish.

I will be strong enough,
To get out of this alive,
And without scars,
Or else,
Face up to the pain,
I have caused.

Which way to glory?
Which way to despair?
How far to reach the future?
How hard the journey there?
Is death behind the next turn?
Or light beyond compare?
Can I find forgiveness?
Will my heart be spared?
When will I accept the truth?
That life is, in fact, unfair?
Where will that life lead me?
And will anybody care?
Which way will keep me safe?
Which way will steal my air?
Can I find the answers?
To these questions I have shared?
Or will I be forced to keep on asking?
Until my heart lies bare?

Kindly make your way to the proper place in this queue,
Step forward whoever's next to try their failing luck,
Let me **** up my existence to fit you into my life,
And waste too much of your precious time,
Let me **** myself over you,
Until you move on,
And leave this,
Pathetic,
Soul.

A boy came by today
His eyes never left the ground
His coat looked new and too big for him
He carried a satchel, a cheap one
One of his fingers was shaking.

The boy came past today
He glanced at me once
His eyes were empty, hollow
His fist was clenched, tight
His jaw was shaking

The boy came back again
He locked his eyes on mine
He was pleading with me
His shoulders were wider than before
His arm was shaking

The boy ran past today
He turned his gaze away
He was crying, I could hear
His coat fit him now, with all its marks
His hands were shaking

The boy strode by today
His head was held high
His hair was longer than before
He wore a backpack, a new one
Still he was shaking

The boy came by today
His friends by his side
They were all wearing makeup
He wore the same old coat
His finger shaking

The boy stopped to listen today
His eyes bright and lips smiling
He had a new coat to go with his skirt
He gave me a coin, his hand shaking
I said "Thank you, Miss"

The girl strut past today
Her steps confident in those boots
She carried a small bag on her shoulder
Her hair pinned up, it matched her dress
She wasn't shaking

A cooling fan whirs,
On my weary laptop,
Sat on my lap as I rock,
In the rocking chair.

I'm frantically typing,
Frantically writing,
With anger and passion,
While all others sleep.

I switch on the light,
With the light switch,
And stretch out my arms,
And close my eyes.

I block out the light,
I just created,
And whisper a gentle prayer,
To the God I know.

I tell God I'm scared,
Of scary things,
And I'm hurt,
By painful things.

I tell God I cry,
When I feel sad,
Because people are cruel,
And say I'm sick.

I tell God all these things,
That they already know,
But I know they're important,
So I keep talking.

I talk about people,
And things that are wrong,
And whether I'm one,
Of those people who are wrong.

And then I look at the time,
And my thoughts are all gone,
Because I suddenly feel so tired,
Because I need to sleep.

So I stop rocking,
In that rocking chair,
And take the laptop,
Off my lap,
I turn off the light switch,
To switch the lights off,
And I leave the room,
Close the door,
Go upstairs,
And sleep.

I was nothing
My emotions projections
Of what I thought I should be
My heart beating for nothing
But circulation
As anxieties ran around my brain

I was a shell
Pretending to be normal
Imitating feelings I'd never known
Locked in a life I never lived
Broken but convincing myself
Nothing was wrong

I was confused
Knowing I was 'different'
But not sure why
And searching for fickle painkillers
That never dulled the pressure
In my mind

I was lost

Now I'm finding myself

Unwilling fraud,
******* in lies,
Told to protect myself,
Because the truth disgusts,
My repulsive mind,
Must be hidden,
As best I can.

Who would want a mind full of dirt?
When it could be cleaned with such such ease,
Only torture and force needed,
To wring out the unthinkable,
The untouchable -
How could I be so disturbed,
As to be unique?

Take out the 'dirt' then,
Leave only the 'pure',
And watch how I rot.

Emptiness has no place
In human souls
But creeps in,
And pulls hearts apart
From the inside
Without warning,
Without mercy,
We are without
Anything to hold onto,
Not even the bitter relief
Of crushing sadness,
Or the burn
Of anger can lock away
The overwhelming
Lack of...anything to feel
Anything to love
Anything to aim for.

Anything

In my heart I know
That doesn't mean anything
I'm so sure
You'll probably grow out of it
It's a part of me
Just hormones playing tricks
This is who I am
You're lying to yourself
I'm happier this way
You're making things difficult
I don't belong in there
You don't belong anywhere
I'll find someone who loves me
Not me
I just want to live a normal life
You can't anymore
I'll dress how I want
You're ugly in that
I feel beautiful
Freak

.

The raindrops in the air,
Feel like static on my skin,
Like broken pins and needles,
Finding their way in.

I can't stop struggling for air,
In the humid summer breeze,
My lips and lungs damp,
And forgetting how to breathe.

Choking on sunlight,
Strangled by the heat,
But drowned gently.

Yearning heart held down,
Trapped soul -
Pulled relentlessly to ground.
But now body follows spirit
And my freedom flight is found.

Between fractured clouds,
Frozen stars
Are shattered as I stare,
Painting dances on the moonlight,
Twisting circles in the air.

Rush of endless sky,
Empty sky
Above the chains of life -
Swirling winds now bind me
To the solitude of height.

And far from here the Earth
Has stopped.
And silenced every mind,
For in these precious moments,
God has visited mankind.

Broken pieces,
Warmed to melting point by kind words,
Until they could be moulded back,
To be whole again.

Metal heart,
Tied to it's past so strongly,
Touched lightly and it chimes,
As two collide.

Shaking fingers,
Too weak to press the waiting keys,
Until steadied by another's,
Caring hands.

Lost hope,
Hidden in the shadows until,
Another outshines loss,
With perfect love.

"There's nothing we can do for you."
That's it.
Confront your mortality.
Then just lie back and let yourself slip away.
Stare at the ceiling.
Wait for a visit.
Visits that get less and less frequent.
As everyone you love tries to get used to not being around you anymore.
Watch as the bags under their eyes get more defined.
Listen to their tired voices and tears.
Just lie there.
In fear.
In awful, lonely fear.
And wait.
Wait.
.
Wait.
.
.
Then.
.
.
.
Just.
.
.
.
.
Slip.
.
.
.
.
.­
Away.

There is no poem today
Because my heart is unsteady
There is no poem today
Because the words might make me cry
There is no poem today
Because it wouldn't make a difference
There is no poem today
Because my soul is trying to hide
There is no poem today
Because I don't want to share my thoughts
There is no poem today

I am unremarkable
My being here makes little difference
To more than close family
Yet I am told I could
Be something more than that
That I could run alongside and
Pluck reality from its path but
I am unremarkable
That I am unique and different
Offers no importance to my existence
Nor does it foster pride or courage
Rather it reassures my belief
That alone I am too small
To change anything
I am unremarkable
Yes, I am a minority but
That never made me happy
Nor does it make me interesting
As more than an exhibit
Who am I is not who I choose to be
So judge me on my choice to be
Unremarkably human.

How many fingerprints are ingrained between the cracks?
How many more were lost in the tides and storms decades back?
How long has such lonely metal hid as the world around it changed?
Was it lost, forgotten or just never seen again?

Did these words round its edge - now broken truth -
Hold meaning and memories or ignored in simple youth?
Are these patterns, barely seen, dead to the eye?
Or are they just waiting for someone to find the right light?

The wind runs through the trees,
The world lets out a sigh.

A whisper frees my bones,
Leaves me calm and quiet.

Everything stops for a second when the wind stops,
Holding onto its breath.

A perfect silence only broken,
When a bird calls out again.

In the darkness, colours create themselves,
Shadows become vibrant of their own accord,
Reflections shine like stars and
Stars swirl into streams of light.
The slow rustle of branches in dull wind
Becomes strokes of a brush, painting in front of me
An imagined beauty
Entwined with reality but
Not real in itself so much as waiting to be real
Longing to burst forth and dazzle my foolish eyes
But here I see a preview
A hint of some artist's dream
A whisper of captured thought in light and pigment
Though I know the street is black and the sky is black
And the houses are grey
And the grass is brown
Why couldn't they be gold? Or yellow? Or blue?
Why shouldn't they glow like fire licking at the
Edges of my shoes?
Dark remains dark only
For the minds which refuse to paint themselves.

I scream at the wall
As if it could understand
Or even hear me.

My fingers grip tight
Around nothing but themselves
Nails in my palm.

The air grows heavy,
Dripping slowly down my throat
Sticking to my lungs.

My vision closes,
The room's shadow grows stronger
A closing tunnel.

Now my eyes empty
Themselves of all their sorrow
Onto the carpet.

I want to be the voice I've never heard before,
I want to hear the sailing notes that I've been striving for,
If I can't find the light to lead me - I'll carve the path alone,
If no other song is sounding, mine will be the leading tone.

Writing is more than a hobby,
Just as breathing is not a pastime,
Nor the pulse of my heart a game.

Were my words to leave by my mouth,
Not through my pen,
No more than a hint of me would remain.

Perhaps it is hard to understand,
If your fingers do not feel the same urge,
The same need to form pictures,
In whatever way they can.

It rose beneath our feet,
A rock, a testament to days we lost,
It trembled with our hearts,
And shook us free from selfish dreams,
To fix our eyes above,
Below,
Around,
Outside ourselves,
To care about the colour of the sky,
Or the way grass smells in the morning,
Or the intricate patterns in an insect's wing,
And our horizon grew,
And fell out from our grasp,
And ran towards the sun,
Which began to rise in the mornings,
Set in the evenings,
And every so often,
Mingle with the structures of our own hands,
And we began to sing,
And dance,
And whisper sweet nothings,
And hush our hatred,
For want of innate love - that we'd forgotten how to find.

Feeling the sun on my face
As I bathe by my window
As I bask in the first burst of spring.
Though beyond those glass panes,
A biting chill dances in the breeze.
I watch and drift in the heat
My eyes do not wish
To gaze on at the light
I have missed for the months in the dark.
All I want is to feel
The sun on my face
That reminds me I'm still alive.

Let the blade slip from your hand
Let it fall away like the blood you tried to shed
Let the past fall too, a thousand regrets gone
Let go
Let every time you doubted fade away
Let every wound heal
Let yourself be free of the fear
Let your heart beat warm blood
Let yourself believe that you were worth it
You were worth fighting for.

The palms of my hands,
Caught all my tears,
And the tiring skin,
Betrays my fears.

You alone,
May know my skin,
Though my gloves,
Are beckoning.

Hold them then,
And feel me shake,
Don't let me think,
While I lie awake.

I'll let you guide me,
And let you trace,
The footsteps I,
Could never face.

Please pull me free,
With your perfect touch,
And show me how,
To be in love.