My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.

one day i realised that

sometimes your love is useless
the emotions are meaningless
the words are all that matter
hence choose them better

Sometimes i catch you
watching me
as i attempt to subdue
my obnoxious laughter
and sometimes you catch
my eyes
fixated on you,
as you throw your head back in laughter;
and we stare into each other's eyes
a little too long
before i turn away shyly.
your eyes are still on me aren't they

When we sat on the sofa
on the last day of school
in the dimly lit Pool Hall,
you put your arm over my shoulder
and pulled me closer
what was in your mind?
we were sitting thigh to thigh,
you called my name,
I turned.
our faces
were so close
that i nudged
the glasses perched on your nose
with my cheek.
did your heart skip a beat like mine?

When we were eating alone
i think i said something stupid
and your grin was so wide that
your eyes curved into crescent moons,
and your grin so bright
wow
that i had to turn away.

Today, we sat beside each other
and you inched
a little closer.
you gingerly put your head
on my shoulder
just a second
and then sprang up,
as though too shy to lean on me for longer.

When we were walking
and our hands bumped against each other
many times
your thumb and index finger
held my little one
just a second
and my heart skipped
just a beat.

We are not lovers.
but we are not
just friends
and i'm not sure
if i want us
to be anything more
than just this.

The real fairy tale life

Christmas eve, cuddled up with blankets and homemade hot chocolate (it's chocolatier and creamier than normal hot chocolate) and marshmallows, with a stupid old chick-flick that you've watched every year for the last 10 years, because it's become your tradition, and then putting the kids to bed early and hiding their presents and getting everything ready for them, because even though you'll be tired all day it's worth it to see them smile.

Going to the grandparents and the in-laws on boxing day because Christmas day is your day with the family, and having fun, playing board games because you can't beat the classics, sitting down for a dinner and laughing at ****** ******* jokes.

And then when the kids fall asleep, loading them into the car and going home, ready to go back to work the next day, because you work a full time job just to support your family to make sure they're never missing anything. Only to get ready for new years eve and partying the night away with your friends before escaping to kiss at midnight...

That's the real fairy tale life, not the marrying royalty and becoming a princess but marrying the one you love and starting a family, because not everything has to be perfect, just as long as you're together

she reads books and she plays music
the cute, innocent
clumsy girl
with freckles on her cheeks

you like to read and listen to music
the cool, handsome
sweet-talking man
who likes freckles on her cheeks

[ or at least you said you did ]

she rolls her eyes at your compliments
the cautious, bright
guarded girl
with curiosity in her eyes

you lay them on thick
the certain, sharp
imprudent man
with hidden agendas on your lips

she lingers a little longer
in hopes of crossing your path throughout the day

she laughs at your jokes
and you know they're not funny

she sings for you in the car because
you like her voice

[ or at least you said you did ]

she's become good at excuses
the hopeful, naive
kind-hearted girl
with sureness in her words

you soak them up
the stark, ill-intentioned
vacant boy
with uncertainty in your voice

she gave all she had to care for you,
the smooth, clever
self-serving boy

you convinced her that you loved her

[ or at least you said you did ]

Sometimes in
       Life
You wake up
  And you ask
         Yourself
Am I dreaming
       And if so
Please God
       Don’t
Allow me to wake-up
         Because
This dream of mine
   Feels just too
Good to be true
              Yet
I did woke up
     And realized
This dream of mine
      Was actually  
        My reality
             And
       My reality
              Is
Definitely something
          I deserve .

   I truly believe
           I
       Deserve
      A
        Beautiful
Sensitive
       Intelligent
Confident
          Sassy
      Loyal
           Passionate
       Humble
            Commutative
         Honest
              Professional
               Crazy
            For me
Kind of woman
        And
       Because
            Of
      You darling
               This
           Isn’t
                 A
            Dream
                 It
                      Is
           Our reality