I wish someone had
told me to stay away
from poetry
I wish I had
known it's an addiction
that won't let me rest
I wish someone had
showed me another way
to get burdens off my chest
besides dumping the shards
sealed in bags of vocabulary,
I wish I hadn't fallen
too deep in love
to find solace in words
for this sums up how much
my addiction rewards

How dare you laugh at my faults when you're the epitome of human failure?

•watching people's hair move in the wind
•the way the washing machine rocks
•light shining through my window
•clean dishes / warm clean clothes
•James eyes scrunch when he laughs
•watching the wind blow things around
•a tall glass of cold water
•watching what people do in their cars
•seeing other people's graffiti / street art
•other people's hand motions

You are difficult to love. Not only because I am not good at loving but also because you are quite unlovable.

These words...
They traverse the fine line between earth and sky.
They dwell not, surface-deep in the dirt.
They be haloed not, as the chorus of heaven.

They're just murmurs that swim intangible.
Like reticulated wisps of smoke.
Incapable of materialising...
Or take definite forms on their own.

They only await to be carefully selected,
rearranged and harnessed into a jar...
Before being sealed infinite with a title.

Be quiet and still...
For you will hear them.
Milling and floating in the silence
that exists between your heartbeats.

Listen close...
For they are fragments of you
and the universe.
They're thoughts and feelings that come awake
as you slumber.

Awaiting to be selected...
Awaiting to be rearranged...
Awaiting to be harnessed...

By you,
the conduit with a pen.