I don’t miss you. No. No – what I’m feeling right now isn’t the ache of lungs burnt out from breathing in too much of the toxic air that comes from painful memories, what I’m feeling right now isn’t the sting of a heart punched by a mind that won’t stop thinking, playing over moments […]Read More Past vs present.
‘When you look at the human face, you always look at the eyes. An eye has something special about it, it’s made of a different matter than the rest of the face.’ – Gaicometti A room of empty words empty thoughts empty minds floating in a trance until we catch a hidden glance Lock the […]Read More Eye contact.
Inhabit via Daily Prompt: Inhabit They say others live in your heart. They say the people you love make a home there and breathe on inside it. They say that your chest will be a place for beings to seek refuge inside, claiming it, making it their own… inhabiting it. It is a beautiful thing, […]Read More Poem: your heart and its flame.
The drops of water upon my skin became a map of all the people I had met. Some in clusters, like a diagram of the loud voices and screaming laughter conjured from the rush of a party or late night walks, high on ecstatic people. Others lay in solitude, like a simple display of talk […]Read More Droplets.
The sound of the rain upon glass resembled the sound of our scattered thoughts, tapping upon people.Read More Rain.
We live on a canvas. yeah… those things artists paint on, those things where thoughts and ideas solidify themselves into what we call art, those things where abstract concepts and floating daydreams formalise themselves onto what is merely a – blank space of nothingness. I wouldn’t go so far as to say we live on […]Read More We live on a canvas.
This is the first draft of a poem I wrote ages ago and never edited: They were never ‘only friends’. Of course they weren’t. Anyone could see it, plain as day. Never. Never had they been an ‘only’ No. They had always been a ‘more’. For in each other they saw galaxies, in their eyes […]Read More Only friends.