isn’t it liberating to know
despite the storm blowing
around in your brain

there is a whole wide world
that will keep the pace
without ever stopping
to consider your storm

time keeps running
the earth still spins
and the rest of the world moves on.

there is hope in that for you, too.

My new windows are transparent,
Free from smudge and tarnish.
I was clear-eyed gazing out,
Reflective peering in.
Two-sided.
Finger prints have been wiped free,
But around the edges there are still ridges,
Evidence of being opened and closed,
Unbroken in their sturdy frames.

But time is no friend to glass.
Winds assail it, birds bounce off at break-neck speed,
Dust accumulates, it becomes opaque.
Missiles assault its permanence,
Shattering the pane into foreboding shards, like a shell.

Some desperate glazes never get replaced,
They invite stone-throwers.
Then the building becomes derelict, untenable.

One stone can break a window,
Or fell a giant.

Filters litter the ground around me,
Slowly they fall to the abyss.
Waiting for time around me,
To go amiss.
We wait for the filters to fall,
so we may see reality once.
And all the while,
it leaves us behind

Today I held the ocean
measured the span with my own two hands
captured its sum with my fingers and thumb
it's very deep and blue and calm
but I held it all in my outstretched palm

There are words that do not need saying,
Words that are wrong or cruel,
Words that lead others to fail or cry,
Words that are sweet words of betraying,
Words that flatter or fool,
Words that weave a maze in the head,
Words that tell a talent not to try,
Many of these there are, although
There are also words that need to be said:
You are the best word that I know.

We meet on our first date, things feel a little awkward, but when don’t they? You tell me about your job, your childhood, your family and the moving around, I tell you the same bar the fact I never left the one town. I crack some jokes, some land, some miss, on paper it doesn’t seem special.

But I felt it, you felt it, there’s something here.

The third date rolls around, after our dinner, I took you for a wander through the city streets in the night, we reached a park and there was a quiet band playing and I spun you round and started slow-dancing, you started giggling and calling me cheesy, but you snuggled into my chest. The night wound down and you asked if I wanted a coffee, I replied saying I don’t drink coffee, I kiss you on the cheek and leave to go back home.

Our eighth date you confronted me, asking “what the hell?!” and I have to explain that I have rushed a physical connection with partners in the past, and that I didn’t want to do it this time, as I apologise for the lack of communication.

A month or two roll by and we get caught in a thunderstorm hiking, when we make it back to the car and dive into the back seats, peeling off the sodden clothes. It is here where I steal a glance, and our rain soaked lips meet.

This is the love that changes what we think of the concept.

Darkness isn't to be feared,
It exists as the beginning,
As a reminder of all the potential,
Before you have done anything,
Before you open your eyes,
Before you take the first step,
The darkness is always there,
So get comfortable with it,
Because when you strike that first match,
When you flick that switch,
It is gone forever,
And all that is left,
Is the stark truth of reality.

One day, the world for me, will be too blurry, too hazy for me to see.
I hope the haze is purple, for
obvious reasons, but life rarely turns out so perfectly.
I can choose,
I can choose to hollow out my own sight, to have medicine take it's
place,
But what will be of my perspective?
Will it change?
Will I?
I have many questions, and no one seems to want to answer them.
I fear the worst, It isn't the dark I fear,
Just what I cannot see.