What the soul can take, and what it can’t. What the mind can withstand, and what ultimately makes it cave in. All the oceans of pain and suffering that have pumped through my veins, and still I can’t rid myself of her eyes. The days of crushing routine, of suffocating in my self-made vacuum, how I ever survived I’ll never know. Not eating, only drinking into the early hours in an effort to find the symbols that would act as keys. To discover the magic I knew existed beneath the layers of little miseries that had dragged me down so far. Redemption in an embrace. Saviour in the bottom of a bottle, and the magic of secret existence just aching to be tasted. Emotions, swirling through the window and dancing with the memories of every face I ever set eyes upon. The skies so hollow, and bedsheets soaked with anxiety. Trying so hard to find that door. Breaking down to find the path to my future, only to find it was right back where I started. Follow those steps to the beginning, and you’ll find the person you want to be. Cut the ties that bind, and become what became undone through years of distorted visions. It’s an ugly world, and sometimes all you can do is curl into a ball wishing to fade out of view. Sometimes, it’s a moment like this that can bring you back from the brink. At your lowest point, all realities are laid bare. You take what you need, and you forget the rest. Faith. Wonder. Running through fields of golden corn with tears in your eyes with a lust for creation that had been dead and buried for so long. Strip away everything. Peel it all back, and take a bite. Taste life, and feed on the dreams that shimmer just on the other side of knowing.

It’s snowing, and I’m searching for her amidst the trees and frozen lakes. She’s somewhere nearby, smiling like an angel blanketed by tenderness. So many times those eyes were closed, yet now they blink so alive. With the future on my side, the past is reclaimed once more. Every stubbed out cigarette, and every bout of nausea that ever existed, a testament to an idea, a belief, that there’s something worth fighting for in an age of empty wars and useless culture. It’s in every kiss. In every moment of quiet contemplation. As the hours tick away and there are only shadows to keep you company, keep searching for them. The ones that inspire- that will take your hand and pull you back up. Sleeping on the floor even though I was afraid of the spiders that scuttled in the corners of the room. Sunlight mocking my tired flesh, and my bones older than I could ever imagine. Cold coffee while stood outside watching my breath escape into the morning air. The trees never said a world, and the birds sang no songs. Alone in a world that never listened, a stranger to myself without even realising. To trespass what holds us prisoners to ourselves, that’s the battle that must be won. To rise above the colourless days feasting like lovers. To hold on, and to feel another’s heart beating against your own. With nothing to my name but words, all realities are within my grasp. They sing my stories and welcome me back home. With my voice intact, I can summon at will. Unafraid of reflections, there are no boundaries. My body may diminish, yet my spirit will shine.

5 replies »

  1. every time i read your words, i am transported to these microcosms of melancholy and mirth, where chinks of light and love prevail despite the drama and seeming resolution.

    you have real talent. i always look forward to reading your posts when i see your posts appear in my thread. stellar work.

    • That’s awfully kind of you to say so, thank you. I like to think that despite the dark tone of my words at times, that love always prevails, even if only by the skin of its teeth. It’s what keeps us going, I guess. That you read and take pleasure in my words is a real treat for me x

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