Loving takes so much courage
And no matter how hard I try
I can’t open your eyes to see
Or show you the reasons why
Opening your heart til it hurts
Wondering if the pain has any worth
I don’t know if I’m brave enough
To be your love

Yes but really though Darling
what even are these 'angels' that you speak of
I do not understand
why it is my hair that you say is remarkable
or the way I throw myself off of bridges
or smash bottles against the cream walls
or the ways in which I threaten to **** you
whilst in the midst of kissing you.
For if these angels you speak of were
anything like these things
then I can find no difficulty in
realising exactly why Heaven
is precisely where I need to be.

you seep
into my dreams
you creep

like a ghost upstairs
a soft reminder of what once was
and forever lost
between two worlds
of love and loss

I'm not dead inside,
I'm alive and well,
there are sparks within me,
so bright I quiet them down,
because they're mine
and I choose who to share them with.

You said people like me are dead inside,
but people like me are waiting,
and waiting, kind sir, is fine.

It is in those broken moments we find ourselves,

Torn to pieces, with no explanation –

A dark crevasse molded to fit our shape,

Holding our deepest thoughts, encasing our forgotten spirit,

We tend to allow ourselves to be encompassed by this abyss –

Explaining to ourselves the need to dwell on the darkened past,

Swallowed by its projection of memories,

Sprayed upon the walls of our mind like murals –

An endless catacomb of images, seemingly permanent in their manifestation…



It is in those broken moments, that we find ourselves.

Seemingly unbearable days, leading to sleepless nights,

Dreading the thoughts that creep their way to our dreams –

Resting in an endless adaptation of our subconscious,

Playing out their roles, as if upon a Shakespearian stage…

Each thought, acting its part with tragic precision,

Layer upon layer, scene upon scene…

Reaching back to grasp our inception of reality –

Griping its contents, and strangling the ideas to exhaustion; gasping…



It was in those broken moments, that we found ourselves,

With a weighted world pressed firmly upon our chest,

The ebbing soil began to crumble –

Giving light to the somber path traversed…

Filling the now hollow crevasse with purpose and meaning,

Each memory defined by the silver lining expressed in love –

The fleeting darkness, swallowed by the over-whelming feeling of home…

Finding it in the simplicity of a kiss, and the certainty of an embrace,

It is here that we find ourselves,

In the intricate details and delicate idiosyncrasies –