Life has a way of speaking to you,
If you allow yourself to listen
So many days fly by without notice
Without meaning or difference.

Life has a way to show you the path
When we think we are travelling all alone
Sometimes we don't know where we're going
Living life blindfolded.

Life has a way of showing you
Your true self and that of others
If we would only tune in
To those around us.

Life can give you abundance
If we only realise the true worth
Of the things around us
We take for granted.

Life can give you true happiness
If we only let go
Of our comparison with others
And if we take ownership
Of the direction of our lives.

I have always been told,

not to overthink and let things slip out of control.

It always bothered me when people misunderstood me.

When all I did was hide and try to keep it low-key.

Oh god,  that is funny!

When you all think I do this just to seek attention.

From who?

People who don't love me?



Instead of being friends, you would rather critique my  life decisions, that don't affect your future plans.

I gave you a chance when I poured my heart out and genuinely thought this could work out.



Nevertheless it all has ended, and don't you think I resent it.

I appreciate you being my friend, however everything must come to an end

somehow, right now,
it’s winter and i’m wrapped in your embrace.
somehow, it’s winter and we’re all wearing brown,
sitting on soft couches and listening,
pretending we’re oh so smart,
when really?
we’re oh,
so
young.

and all our hearts, they’re strewn across the floor,
all our work is forgotten,
as we kiss and touch and watch the snow fall,
and sit down to dinner,
where we slow dance -in the living room,
then wrap our arms around each other,
repeat the same songs on some ancient tape player.

those slow drumbeats, the soft jazz notes,
the growing thrum of this cursed city
-the one we danced to? sank into the sheets with?
this, this is where we got lost in us.
with the snowfall outside and, who would have noticed
that we smell like something other than fall candles.

i grin, and we grab our things off the floor,
and laugh it off. somehow, we know this place,
it’ll always be our home. after all,
sweaters cover our marks in a way sun-clothes can’t,
don’t they darling?

now, soft skin, pearlescent,
seems like some sort of luxury, a wish made during yule,
something i can only share with you,
because truly, i don’t think i’d want to share this cold place,
unless they were you.

and as we waltz to slow music, as we plan, as we laugh,
as we sit down in the candles,
i think i’m falling all over again,
because your eyes look hodded in the light,
your skin inviting, your mouth soft,
and your smile makes me wish you’d swallow me whole.