like a change of the seasons,
the faces in your life disappear,
and new one materializes-
some sunrays of the summer
linger to the autumn,
but by winter, they've faded
to a mere memory of
what it used to be

i was trying to find a home in you,
but i realize the only way i ever will
is to build my own.

insecurity is like an ocean.

you are either paddling, waddling,

endeavoring to stay alive,

and the currents of society will come at you,

one at a time, almost like rapid fire bullets.

or you can choose to drown in it,

and let the water take you as their own,

allow their vicious streams to pour into your mind,

and infiltrate you with their poison of never being good enough.

it's either you submit to what they want

or endure, fight and keep swimming,

hoping for the shore,

that will never arrive.

there is nothing more devastating
than the slow burn of a flame
that used to go off like a firework.

we're not a trainwreck waiting to happen,
or an explosion at the end of a tunnel-
we're more of a light losing it's spark.

and somehow, i feel that's sadder almost-
it didn't happen so abruptly that it felt
like i'm ripping off a bandaid

we're movie that started out beautiful,
but as the end looms closer, you can sense
the ending stained with tear-tracks on cheeks.

after all, i prefer you screaming and shouting
like a thunderstorm fighting through,
than to be a breeze passing me by and letting me go.

we float endlessly
on this cloud
we call existence-
paddling across a
stream of events-
milestones of fabricated
importance and meaning-
we're in an
empty space of
shapes and forms-
we're idyllic wanderers,
drawers of such
a wild dream

the heat of your mouth
tastes like a thunderstorm
brewing from a distance away-
i'm so good at being careful but
i find myself getting caught in the storm
again and again and again.

in a world full of colour,
i am a blank canvas.