Unlocked doors into Wednesday Afternoons

I was a moment on your lips.

I was a part of the sheets.

We were tangled in them.

We were separated

And yet we moved

We gripped

We pulled

Ourselves

All we knew

For all we felt

We never felt

Again.

I was on a parallel shore,

And I was running beside you.

A river separated us

And with a stream you drifted apart

So easily you disappeared into the horizon and I

Was lying against my own

When suddenly a vision of you appeared and

All I knew I forgot.

Just to be with you

I left it all

For a moment

To be with you

I’d forgive

All of you and yet none of you

I’d let live.

This is not psychology

I think time was contracted to run faster as we got older. Or maybe we just got busier, we got heavier, we got slower.

Every day seems to move at a different pace bringing me new things every moment.

Every year seems to whitewash the last, a whole year of inescapable bubbles I found myself in, is pushed to the back of the shelf. Further and further till I have forgotten what those feelings were like.

The people that were a part of my life, the music that filled in the spaces when silence was nowhere around to quieten down the restlessness of a childhood passed from hand to hand.

I’m afraid that as we move into our futures, we lose our chances when we quarrel, when we slur against each other, when we are separated. When we are hurt, we start turning away from the world, we start turning our backs on our parents, and our siblings and we choose to forget them. We forget to take them along to share in our moments.

I know there are some things I need to experience for myself and I will, gladly. Space is something we all crave but at the same time, as easy as we demand it, that’s how quickly we want it to disappear. We try and wish it away, but we still feel cornered by what we have asked for.

I’m afraid that when I look into the future, I won’t see the people I love because I would have forgotten to love them. I would have just gotten angrier and angrier that they couldn’t understand me, how I grew and why I turned out to be the way I am. I forget that I didn’t give them the time of day, I didn’t let them care about me because when they tried, I didn’t explain. I didn’t want to take the effort with them. Instead, I wasted my time with strangers and people that took me for granted. I chose to tell them when they couldn’t care less about me or what would happen to me.

I told them anyway. Because telling them was easier, facing them felt lighter and talking to them, reaching out to them I did quicker than searching for the caring in my own blood.

I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to be detached. We all have to move on. But we don’t have to forget. I want to learn from them as much as I can. I don’t want to have to regret that I wouldn’t know what they’d say or how they’d feel. They are not my enemies. These are people that had lives before I happened. These are people that made plenty of their own mistakes. These are people that tried to be right and sacrificed who they were for me, so I could grow.

Who shut up, so I could rant. Who got hurt, so I didn’t have to.

But I did, I still did. Even after you stood to try and protect me, you didn’t protect me from yourself. I didn’t think it would occur to you how important you were. But now you do, you are what I know of love, sacrifice, pain, and strength.

another day in paradise

"it's a wonderful wonderful life"
i am washed over again,

black and blue seeps away from my skin,

the nib drawing away the ink from its pot.

let the words appear on some other page,

let me read it, let me see it somewhere else.

how we survive,

"no need to run and hide"

i see it all again.

moments slip into the shadows,

i clock my time, in and out,

of this conscious living,

sustained by faith alone.

sometimes hope doesn't even cut it,

it's the dogma of duty,

it's the beckoning of the truth,

into the valley of death rode us,

the five of us.

but it's a wonderful wonderful life.

burning roses

memories slowly drifting towards me
and in the light,
it seems like all these scars come to life.

let's break all the mirrors in this house,
let's send the shards flying round,
because every minute i seem to stay,
i seem to die.

oh, let the walls burn right down
and let the curtains veil
this little girl's fate.

honey, you're growing up,
and it isn't a fairytale.
but it's okay because we'll find a way someday.

honey, it's gonna be tough,
and you're gonna be dismayed,
but He never gave you more than you could handle.

just light a candle,
and pray.
light a candle,
and pray.

that tomorrow, the cigarettes and wine,
they won't be the lie that separates your life and mine.
and all the money in the world,
can't bring you closer,
you have to will your heart
and fight like you're supposed to.

that's the way it is, honey.
that's just the way it is.

broken strings

Let me hold you
For the last time
It's the last chance to feel again
But you broke me
Now I can't feel anything

When I love you,
It's so untrue
I can't even convince myself
When I'm speaking,
It's the voice of someone else

Oh it tears me up
I try to hold on, but it hurts too much
I try to forgive, but it's not enough to make it all okay

You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real

Oh the truth hurts
And lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before

Oh what are we doing
We are turning into dust
Playing house in the ruins of us

Running back through the fire
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late

Oh it tears me up
I try to hold on, but it hurts too much
I try to forgive, but it's not enough to make it all okay

You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell something that ain't real

Well the truth hurts,
And lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before

But we're running through the fire
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train
When we both know it's too late (too late)

You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I cant tell you something that ain't real

Well truth hurts,
And lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before

Let me hold you for the last time
It's the last chance to feel again

unnamed

We seem to be living the blur yet again. We seem to be walking the same damn line. Take me back 10 years. Take me back to the summer where we house hunted, where we ran naked through our pockets in search of pennies to pay for a home.

Shelter is not just an aluminium sheet anymore, the rain seeps in, orders. The mattress you sleep on today has a story, it was stolen. Hungry hands grabbed it away, a bachelor turned it into a wedding bed, and then threw it away when a baby was born. When your baby was born, 18 years ago, was your home small? Or was it large, was it too big to hold? The feeling of having to be a home for another being? Another life you held in the palm of your hand, you would be the hand that fed it, you would be the brush that painted the smile on its face, you would take it to school and help it live.

You would show it the world, a world that was too ugly to be rolled into a diploma, you showed her the chasm between theory and practise. You broke the sound barriers when you educated her with those words.

When i write, i talk at a thousand people at the same time, to a hundred people in a single glance and to a handpicked few in a single breath. Today, its 18 years after. And the both of you are here, another came in between to define the prism of light growing in her womb. And it shone brighter and brighter, but she grew weaker and weaker, and no matter how hard i try and save the hands that taught me how to live for the one that still has to live, age has caught up with you. and although the wise one tells me to be brave about death, how can i when your story has yet to be told? I stay away from it all, I’m sheltered by the walls that enclose me, the wings cover me, and so many others that try escape the shrewd nature of the world that lies beyond the walls of barbed wire, beyond the grizzly screens, and further beyond the pictures in the paper, black and white and red all over.

Still in the midst of all this instability, in the heart of this wall of text, there is a beating fighting young poignant heart. There is a point. Sailing across the gulf that separates us, you come to build me a home. I have a few more years left in me, i still have them. All i can say is I can still step into my Father’s House, I can still look up and praise, and I will still look up with no shame until there is nothing to look up to anymore. For that is how I came into this world, with my head thrown back, and my eyes shut, and my hair covering my ears.

Not the pretty way words are supposed to look on a page, no the beauty you bring is when the intensity of your eyes burns life into every syllable of this prose. When finally you swallow your fears and your pride and every single piece of your mortality that remains and you pause. Your stomach churns, because the hardest thing to admit is that you have reached the end of the page. So until then, i’ll put a stopgap in the inflated importance my generation gives to procrastination, and i will shamelessly waste away my days with you, until all we know is taken from us again, and we will be hurt.

And still from the ashes we shall rise.



Golden children of the sky, you golden children of the sky.

Unnamed

There's a line of crimson in the sky today.
It seems like the sun seems to follow its own jestream.
Moonbeam,
You are the stream, silver lining of the river it left behind on the earth.
Moonshadow, oh moon shadow
My dreams, we aspire for the future.

Let not the smoke of today cloud the young of tomorrow.
Let the pain of pushing through this day and the next mean something to the adult I'm trying to raise.
Let our struggles harden the child I'm trying to brave.

We are a delicate race, suspended on fragile strings
Like a chinese yoyo, the world spins,
Sideways,
On its own line of fate.

The city's full of smokers.
She called them 'faithful addicts'.
The tops of those skycrapers
Driving a dagger into the devil.
The demons of the hopeless,
The whores of the fruitless,
The agents of the homeless,
And the kings of the heartless.

I'm not a tool, I'm not a puppet.
I'm a creation, that's been fearfully and wonderfully made,
And my soul is eternal.
A life was promised to me on the other side,
So I'm reaching out to claim it.
I may have missed the nine o'clock bus, but there isn't any traffic.

This is a protest.
By the sinners of the cole world,
We're the brave world.
Take our heartstrings,
Weave into one string,
And fly it.
One day it'll sing out our stories as a star blazes a cross it.
Watch it light up the generations of tomorrow,
And the music left in their ears will sustain them,
We paid their debts,
So they wouldn't have to borrow.
No more begging, no more stealing.

There's a line of crimson in the sky today.