it all goes dark
when the shroud of the night
covers the earth: darkness, no light
as all the others close their eyes
their minds shut down, the air goes quiet

but the blinding fluorescence in my room
outshines the window, I see no moon
it only reflects me, my room: chaos and doom
the voices scream louder as I try to give up too soon

nightly divinity calls to me - soft - siren - lullabies - to sleep
but the eyelids, trapped open, within them my eyes weep
with each passing breath, the screeching voices cut deep -

my cheeks grow wetter while the stars glow dimmer
those dead eyes close, right before the sun's first shimmer.

she goes to the beach with her shoes on -
yet longs to dip her feet in the water
the waves come crashing towards the shore, with open arms inviting her
but afraid, she steps away
only allowing the water to ever-so-slightly
kiss the tip of her shoe
a little more than the tip, and she scurries back panicked
though never turning away from the water,
she gazes still, pining with regret
oh she’s so tempted ~
as the wave ebbs, she inches towards the receding boundary
though unable to cross her own.

the wave, patient as ever, gives her another chance
and another,
lovingly,
incessantly,
it moves closer, extending its welcome
but she scurries back again
thinking about damp socks, or even worse
wet, sandy feet.
how was she supposed to get home with ease?  

distracting herself, she looks up at the night sky
though not the stars, she remembers instead their counterparts
the stars twinkling within those almond eyes -
smile brighter than the sunshine, aura peaceful like moonlight
laughter louder than crashing waves
but presence fleeting like butterflies.

what would happen if she acted too late?
unlike the waves, the smile would fade
those eyes would turn away, leaving her in the shade ~
driven with the fear of loss, she finally plunges, unafraid.

she’s in the moment, one with the sea
she can think about how to get home, only when she needs to be.

expecting a boom -
but it was only a whisper.
expecting a spectacle -
but it only got dimmer.
expecting praise -
when only deserving of pity.
just when you couldn’t finish the race
was the distance travelled all a waste?
fell too short, a disgrace
when the expectation wasn’t my fate.

Passed down from one generation
to the next
not knowledge
but values - limiting beliefs

constraining, they were not healed
raised in the system, they knew only to heed
what is worse, their children plead
victims of the system their parents preach.

at crossroads I was, unable to choose
where I would go, and what I could lose
the clock was ticking, the other cars waiting
in the middle I stood, debating, debating ~
the decision to make, what path to take
what would I lose, when so much was at stake?

you walk past me
eyes down, swiftly
behind you follows a trail of shadow
aura of darkness, hatred, avoidance
once transparent, we were now faceless
as best friends we loved, lost
now strangers.

My rail tracks seem to have disappeared
Only the red autumn leaves seem to have covered
A cold melancholy in the air hovers
As I look beyond to see what uncovers

But the truth is that it is an endless journey
There’s no special place ahead, no sanctuary
Just the train, and the passing estuary
The destination seems lost, as I realise it was only imaginary.

Now I yearn for meaning.

What is this train journey,
Where is it leading?
Maybe it’s better to just hop off
And enjoy it from the beginning.

A locked grave, a confined space
My heart pounding, a tight brace
the strongest oppression: time’s pace
alone and lost, I was chased.

Run, run, run, as fast as you can
Or do as some say: start, lest it began
But now it was too late, the attacker was behind
Edging close, a knife in her hand -

We will soon meet, at the time she feels
But there was a last resort, for those who were weak
I could leave the chase and fall off the cliff
Or just remain and receive death’s kiss

Arriving time, time has arrived
Slash, slash - a blood splash
A red boundary formed, impossible to cross.
Deadline - that’s what it was called.

I was wrong.
She became the ocean
because she was torn.

Before she fell in love with the storm
She was enamoured by the trees
The nature surrounding her
And its delicate seeds
The lake was who she was
And she hoped that would be her all -

But the storm struck her.

It struck, ******, and stole
What was left of her whole
Her innocence, her soft soul
All ripped and discarded by the swirling ghoul
Needless to say, it left a deep hole
One that would never heal, one no-one could behold

She become the ocean so it was she who would control.
The storms in her palm, the monsters of her own
Monster she became, bold yet cold
The ocean’s depths let no mercy be shown.

But what still remained the same was her soul -
It was the same water, the same heart
The same desire, the same start
The same softness, in a hidden part
She did not want to see another torn apart.

She commanded the storms, an ocean of power
Protected the weak with the comfort she showered
Under her rule, the real monsters cowered.
In the world of the bad, it was she who towered.

She always wanted to be her older self
Taller, smarter, stronger, prettier
Looking in the mirror she strove
to be that person, everybody loved
a head turner.

Today she looked again.
Reflecting off were bigger goals -
Striving to be even older, even smarter
More compelling, both chaos and order
Achieving every dream, her fire burnt brighter

Little did she know, the girl in the mirror
was what she wished for, years earlier
While wanting to be better, aiming higher
she forgot to see that she really was
the perfect person she once desired.

I was that dying seedling in the desert
Revived by the beautiful gift of rain
The rain was the effect of you on me
When I was in pain.

Well, times have changed.
An oasis has bloomed, no dark sky looms
But one thing still remains the same
The droplets of rain, which remind me of you.

A closed room - tight, binding
Hard to breathe, the air was sickening
The sticky stench, atmosphere thickening
Struggling to escape, fear was quickening.

I thought I would wait:
thought we were meant to be, thought it was fate ~
Not to worry, we’d meet again at a later date
at a better place, in a better state
But when longing was no longer, was it too late?
Or perhaps it was all just fake -
destiny twisted, star-crossed stakes
To meet again, feel again, only for it to break
yet again. You were another bait.
I see it now, nothing really awaits ~
They used us to play, oh twisted fate.

Your eyes twinkle differently.
They don’t reflect the yellow from the sunflowers nearby
but they seem to adore the tumultuous grey storm on the other side
who knew one so mellow could suddenly harden
maybe it hardened so it didn’t crumble -

but you didn’t realise the nature that surrounded you
a fresh breeze blew over the calm lake
green trees swung beside to provide you with shade
flowers grew alongside, and handed you their delicate seeds
they knew you would care for them even after they grew to become trees -

But you fell in love with the storm.

You became the ocean - almighty powerful, vast and destructive
yet so alone
no one ever saw you
except for bare, faceless rocks
or people who died taking their last hop
you comforted life in your darkest depths
but it never saw the sky above you
and only ever mastered hiding in the comfort of the blue

you didn’t protect the seeds of the flower anymore
those trees were too far away to shade you
the calm breeze was replaced by a violent gale
one that was too quick to move you

you may have progressed into the calm sea that is enjoyed
or you may remain the storm
but the salty sea will never be able to bring back
the sweetness that is gone.

I lay still, staring at the ceiling
It was all dark; no colours, no feeling
A constant thumping in my chest, the spirit wasn't leaving
Moonlight shone through the window, soothing quiet screaming
Body contorted, agony was unveiling
Put me to sleep: I closed my eyes, pleading.

i scribble on a piece of paper
a keyboard smash, a random string of letters
what once birthed a poem
now blank, stares back, soulless
was it ever my voice? or was i a mere echo
of an origin that is now silent ~
i beg for it to speak again
as i slowly realise its deafening roar
has been present
all along.
the impudent ear fails to listen
only ever tempted by the sounds more entertaining:
those of the outside, the music, the dance, the chatter
silent is the loud heart wailing.