I will not apologise.
I will not apologise for never fully giving you my heart.
I will not apologise for hurting when you were not.
I will not apologise for not hurting when you were.

Because I am not sorry.

I have apologised for every single thing
for as long as I could remember -
head down, “sorry” this, “sorry” that -
and you know what? I am done.

You were in the roots of my hair,
in every cell of this god ****** body.
And the heaving craters within my veins,
made by insecurities coming crashing down,
are evidence of a battle hard won.
Too long have I fought the reflection of a mirror,
too many times the jagged pieces won.  

Now I am marching back to my native land
to be reunited with the home I’ve made in my soul.

I will not apologise for leaving your war.
I will not apologise for not being you.
I will not apologise for being me.
I will not apologise for anything.

i. I've fallen for the way you write certain letters in two separate strokes, almost as if telling them that every single part of them is unique and deserves more.

ii. The way our nails are shaped the same, as if our bodies were made to match, if only barely.

iii. When you grind your teeth while arguing with me. As though your mere teeth could crush everything you ever hated about me.

iv. Or as if you could trample all of the words you didn't want to hear me say.

v. There are thousands of buildings I'd jump off to remind myself of how it felt to fall for you.

vi. I liked the adrenaline of falling but I'm done falling for you.

I’m made of bones and blood,
and those bones,
unbroken and holding me up,
is proof of my survival.
And though there is emptiness and fear hiding inside,
put together with the will to keep going,
I know I am stronger than ever.
And there is salt in my blood
from the days where tears infiltrated
into the valleys I built to hide in.
But the oxygen inside each blood cell
is proof that I’m still breathing.
I’m alive. I’m alive!
And I’m trying my best not to forget that.

Everything hurt.
Not that it mattered.

His skin was clean.
There were no scars,
there were no daily reminders
of the sins he had committed.
And you tried to think
for so impossibly long and hard
when was the last time
yours had been clean too.
Because no matter how long
you had beaten back temptation
you always saw something
other than clear skin.

Put you close to my heart
and tell you that you are
so ******* beautiful.
I want so badly
to kiss every inch
of your battle weary skin,
whispering sweet nothings
about how terrifyingly beautiful the jagged,
taunting lines are.

But I cannot bear to encourage this war.

You are beautiful because
you saw ugliness
and you saw pain,
yet your faith in the world,
or God, or humans,
or something,
made you stay and witness more
despite your own suffocating darkness.

But I will not encourage this war.

The faceless, jeering voices inside -
they are not real.
They will not win.
They are bullies in a pre-school courtyard.
It's hard to walk away but
eventually you learn to tune them out.
Their unworldly presence is not beautiful
so they take over your mind to compensate.

End this war.

The casualties canceled out any victory
the moment blood was first spilt.

"I love you (just for tonight)"
That is what is always said.
There's nothing harder than loving you.
There's nothing harder than leaving you.
"Don't leave." "I was never there."
A defective love built on lies.

I haven't hurt myself lately
but that's okay
there's enough of that
where you come from

things are getting harder
but i guess you wouldn't
really know
it's been so easy shutting you out
too easy
to go with the flow

the nights are getting longer
but no one else
really knows
it's been hard spending them alone
without your warmth
in this numbing cold

although it's getting difficult to stay afloat
it's getting easier to just keep pretending
that i belong on the bottom of this river of life  
as mere

bed load

If it's any consolation,
I'll miss you too -

a lot.

The sun would bow at your command,
The stars to freeze in your presence.
For you I'd find a way
To spend a night up in the heavens
Along with the moon and its impish grin.

*To the man I'd yet to meet:
Strangers

I'm not perfect.
There's a cry for help
that only the city lights hear -
barely flickering in response.
I go deeper in

the labyrinth I've built for myself.
I manage to get lost and
find comfort and pain
(at least I can feel pain),
in knowing no one can find me.
But even that does not last long

when hating yourself
is the only thing you know of.

When will the knife slip,
when will your feet trip -

into myself,
into my freedom?

Whose freedom
are we fighting for,
if we don't even know
who we are?

I don't know what to tell you
except,
I love you,
and I always will

Walk with me to the ends of this sad world,
Come follow me to where the grey clouds twirl.
Walk beside me, not in front or behind,
Follow me to where rules are undefined.
Walk alongside me 'til your feet give way,
Come follow me, just please meet me halfway.
Walk next to me to where sky and sea meet,
Follow me to where mankind is complete.
Slowly waiting for the leaves to turn green,
When the spring arrives and the calves are weaned.
Candles, candles, oh how their rays of light,
Burns our weak eyes with it's dazzling might.
Looking forward to when the sun won't set,
Forever I'll stare at your silhouette.

Don’t dance with the faeries,
don’t trust in half-truths.
They’ll leave you broken.
A beautifully shattered mirror.

Don’t deal with the devil,
don’t trust in promises.
They’ll leave you falling.
An innocent child turned renegade.

Don’t sing with the sirens,
don’t trust in lulling songs.
They’ll leave you gasping.
A soul burnt to the ocean floor.

Don’t believe in anybody,
don’t listen to practiced lies.
They’ll leave you bleeding.
They’ll leave you broken,
                                        falling,         ­                                     

                          ­                         gasping.

**We are the worst of all creations.
We destroy all that has been made.

Should've learnt by now
that old mix tapes from you
will
        always
     bring
       me
               down.

I pick fights with people,
because as Albert Camus said,
"to feel absolutely right
is the beginning of
the end"
and I'd rather have you angry
for awhile
than have you gone
for the rest of my life.

No one told me though,
that constant fighting
only ends in pushing everyone away.

But without the crashing waves
or turbulent winds,
we wouldn't be the ocean we are -
breaking boundaries and pushing limits
and finally finding
where we belong
and who we are.

Of all the stars in the sky,
you were the loudest, the brightest,
the one that spoke my name,
the one that kept me sane,
the one that was the light to guide me home.

Of all the stars in the sky,
you’ll be the one I always treasure, forever,
the one that made me laugh,
the one that made me cry,
the one that eventually made it all worthwhile.

*When love seems to have faded, we’re just lost in the confusion, the anger, the stress, but the love is always there waiting to be uncovered once more. When we feel as though we’re drowning, if we try a little harder, we’ll find the shore, it’s not too far, love, we’ll get there, sooner or later.

We walked along the shore,
separate but joint.
Look up. The broken stars,
the anguished stars will explode.
Beauty in the most shattered souls.

We walked along the shore,
the present in yesterday.
Look up. The battered lives,
the lost lives wander these skies.
Joy in the souls who've suffered.

Every traitorous thought you harbour
ties a small rock to your ankle
as you tread water in the open ocean.

Every spiteful thought from a family member,
friend, acquaintance, stranger
ties another.

It weighs you down,
of course it would.
You know how to swim,
you know how to float and tread water.

But that is not what will save you.

Everyone tires eventually.

You hold a pair of scissors in your hand.
It is slightly blunt,
of course it is.
You've cut your wrists and thighs and stomach,
your worth
so many times.

But even the bluntest of scissors will be helpful
when you're about to drown.
Wear down the string
then leave them behind on the ocean's floors.

It is easier to cut away what weighs you down
than try and pretend it doesn't bother you.

Paper heart, you've been drowned and torn,
you'll never be whole once more.
The cracks have been illuminated,
dry what is left of this fragile love

String of trust, unwound and tangled,
you've been knotted and cut.
What was strong now deteriorates,
hanging listlessly to drift with cold winds

Yesterday I swore it'd be the last time
I'd shed tears over this broken love.

Today I heard your name in a conversation
where petty girls gushed over your voice
(the only voice to have ever comforted me)
and I'd never felt so disheartened before.

(what once was, now feels like forgotten lore)

Tomorrow, I banish you from my mind -
no longer free to hide in the dark crevices of my heart
or tear my soul apart.

(glow in the dark stars)
A pack costs two dollars
But the joy it brings is worth manyfold.
They laugh,
Calling me immature, childish.
But have you ever been afraid of the darkness the way I am?
When the dark arrives, so does isolation,
and emptiness and hate and pain and self-loathing.
That's all I know of darkness,
so leave my packet of stars be,
they watch over me when no one else will.

(dreamcatchers)*
A bit of string, a few feathers,
and perhaps a bead or two.
Call it superstition, but I believe.
Because nightmares aren't just bad dreams to me,
they are possible glimpses into the future, where desolation dominates,
where the monsters in my head are as real as you and me,
and they tower over and hunt me.
Be sure not to break the string,
for they say all the bad dreams
will be released into the real world.

A hooded figure lying in wait,
winds dance around,
hiding, revealing, twirling in circles,
it's almost time.

Hoarse coughs sound throughout the night.
He is not scared, he will not be harmed.
Time is endless, but time will stop.
This book is ending, another is near.

Him and his friends, they dance,
gracefully protecting,
in return, he gives them life,
one of darkness.

Blinks open his eyes, there is calm.
He greets the other as a true friend.
A life well lived, no regrets.
This new dance, slow and ageless.

Light emerges,
shadows retreat once more,
you are safe, for tonight.

Last night I felt the alcohol and darkness slither in again.
So I buried myself into a blanket burrito
and tried not to let the cold take over.
Soon however, it felt suffocating,
tightening around my arms and hands
whenever the night demanded blood and pain.
"I'm protecting you on his behalf," the blanket whispered,
as its warmth imitated his arms and lulled me to sleep.