He was the brightest star the world had ever seen,
but no star can burn bright forever, although that was unforeseen.
He was a man who brought joy to all those around him,
so that he never had to show them how his life was grim.
He made them laugh until their stomachs hurt,
even though inside he was full of despair, sadness and disconcert.
Like a clown, his smile was painted on,
only when he removed it did you see the wretchedness in his deep blue eyes; that’s when it dawned
that he was a slow dying flower,
fading petal by petal and losing power
until the day he’d been poisoned enough by this ghastly world,
and he died once and for all by his own hand – that’s when the truth of his life really unfurled.

O how I wish for an escape from all this trauma surrounding me;
Sometimes I wish I could disappear forever and never come back; just flee.
Discover the world in all its glory and forget just who I am,
And forget where I came from; anything to not care or give a ****.
I crave to become lost somewhere unknown to me and explore –
Anything to not have to live my own life or be me anymore.

To be hidden inside
Once heartbroken
Lost trust in the eyes of the people
The heart like a custard donut but only filled with pain
Afraid
Learned an extent of how players play
A guidebook to an unforeseen hurt
Remedies thought to be euphoric
To have it all escape in the hands of time
Afraid
A dark room to find a soul balled under the linen sheets
Used tissues lay on the bedside
Tissues containing tears of the lost
The lost and the loss now being chosen
Afraid
Memories clouding the air
Suffocating and so so so compelling
Compelling to remember the chapter
A chapter written long ago
Until the time arrives for the page to turn
Afraid
No need to be
Don't be afraid
Let me in
For I'll be forever
A shoulder to lean on
Afraid
Afraid is simply what we will make it
Together

The moon and me
are not friends.
How can we be if we never speak?
If right now
is the first time, after nineteen evenly spaced years,
that we have taken in each other.

But it seems as though in this (maybe very crucial) moment
we've found each other
- caught eyes across this heavy distance.
Maybe I am sensational and
we look closer to each other than we actually are - it can be a deceptive space.
But I understand the moon: alone
almost always present but rarely noticed; continuously
cutting its shape, so then maybe someone can say:
hey moon, you look nice today.
If I am not sensational then I know you are funny,
moon, but your timing is always wrong
- no one laughs because your jokes come at the day-time's funeral.

Or that is just how I see you.
Good day, moon, sleep tight when the sun comes up.

You draw me in
With your sweet smile
And catch my heart
With your coy eye.

I'm mesmerized
By the way you move,
And when he's standing
By your side.

The two of you
Bring me together
And trip me up
When you look at me.

I'm falling into
The way you speak
And when you play,
You set me free.

Your sound, his voice,
You need not fear,
For I know what
Your souls say.

You need not worry
If people hear,
For your words make
Their own way.

That look you give
When you see his face
I know it's for him,
But I skip a beat.

Because the love
That you two share
Is what I need
To feel complete.

Sunbeams dancing off the ends of leaves and
dropping to laugh along the rutted path,
running up my legs and tickling my tum,
sunbeams are fun.

We all think so except for grumpy caterpillar who only ever complains about headaches and hemorrhoids and pains in the chest.
His Mum's a butterfly and doesn't know why he's like it, blames his Father, the red admiral, 'he was always at sea', so she says.

'I'll be a sunbeam for you', we sang and the woods rang with titters and the twitter of birds,
'just storybook words', Mother said, as she tucked us up in a flowerpot bed and the day will be bright again tomorrow and so we borrowed some sleep from the moonbeams that keep the sunbeams 'til morning comes courting.