My laughter found yours familiar,
Like they’ve met before.
In some distant echo,
Behind a closed door.

A sound that feels ancient,
Yet somehow brand new,
As if every joy i’ve lost
Was waiting in you.

Your smile, a reflection of light I once knew,
In sunsets and stars,
In mornings of dew.

We speak in soft whispers,
But the meaning is loud.
Two voices intertwined,
Rising up from the crowd.

Each word that you offer,
A verse I once read,
From a poem long buried
In the back of my head.

And though we’re just strangers,
There’s more we can say,
For in laughter,
We’ve met in another faraway.

We were drawn to each other — almost instantly. A broken boy and a damaged girl who found comfort in each other’s company. A story old as time but this one rang more true. Though we found the love we desired, we still had depression, but for two.

It’s not you, it’s me. I know we’ve been going strong for quite sometime now but to be honest, I’ve found myself very unhappy with who I’ve become. I know we’ve gotten immensely comfortable with each other but in comfort, there is no growth. So I need to start taking risk. I need to start coloring outside of the lines because it has the potential to be something magnificent and beautiful. And if it isn’t, that ok too. Because chaos doesn’t always have to lead to madness, for there is truth in chaos, and that is what I want to find; my truth, my voice, my story.

I’ve held myself back because of this fear that I am not good enough, that I don’t have what it takes; that I don’t actually have anything important to say. But there’s something inside of me; something strong and powerful that wants to be heard. So who am I to cage that in? Look, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t afraid, because to be honest, I’m terrified. But I think I need to live in this fear for a while to really understand what I’m capable of. I need to push myself and expand the dimensions of who I am to be able to see what I can accomplish.

I’ve been so focused on not failing that I stopped trying. I found solace in your presence and made excuses to not writing. But I can’t be that person anymore. I’m sorry Writer’s Block, I need to set myself free.

Sometimes I still get lost;
in a moment,
in a memory,
in the empty spaces yet to be filled.

It creeps though the cracks and crevasses
of my unconsciousness
like a creature,
trying to find a place to belong;
to feel alive.

It's presence is so subtle
that it silently slips it's way in
without notice
and builds its new home in my solace.

And like a wild fire,
it spread to every part of my body,
paralyzing my will
and holds me hostage to the madness.

Breaking down doors I've locked
and destroying walls I've recently patched;
letting my demons run free, once again.

Chaos ensues as I sit there
drowning in my fear,
my misery,
my loneliness.

Lost,
until the flames subside,
and my demons had their way with me,
and I'm left cleaning up the wreck.