I had the sudden urge to write, but then i lost my train of thought... just something i'm working on whenever inspiration attacks. Clearly, its unfinished.


"i, want to shake you from your being and whisper love into your ears
with hope it finds its way into your heart
so that you may be safe from the storm and the frigid edges
of the tips of your own thoughts that compass
hatred that grows with each tick of the clock, tock, tick,
and then you awake from reality into a dream
where you live a life of deception of what
you wish were, but what wished is not
back into the grasp of the nightmare where
hope is at a distant reach"

The truth of it is, I don't feel I have a purpose to anything I'm doing, so I don't want to do it. Just once, I want to remember how it feels to have a dream and to want to pummel everything in the way of it until I get there.

the water is deep, so are my thoughts

Sometimes I hear your words echo in the back of my mind and I believe them for everything they’re worth. Whether you said it because you were hurt or to try and hurt me is beyond the point. I hear you yell them at me as if in the very moment they were released into the world. I fight them off with every ounce of proof to deny your inquisition, but then the doubt seeps into my mind and my heart aches at the thought that you could very well be right. I am afraid. Afraid to feel the way you made me feel so many times before, afraid to admit that I care much more than I lead on. And then nothing. Nothing happens, my pulse calms and its as if I’m asleep by the shore line and the water, warm, gently nibbles at my toes and the sound of the water kissing the rocks by the shore is sweet instead of vengeful. Redemption. We have surpassed a storm that cannot honestly be called so as we merely floated through some heavy rain over what can hardly be called waves. The volume of your echoing words die down to a whisper and I feel safe again, safe enough that is. Sadly so, it is only until the next time. I feel… like admitting how I feel would only make the monster real so instead, I shy away from all the things I ought to feel and replace them with blind fear. We are sailing over unsure waters where the wind whispers doubts into my ears, I daresay I prefer they’d whisper truths from my soul to yours.

Heard in our hearts, not always in sound

Heavy in our hearts lay the things that hurt us most. I strongly believe that humanity’s biggest failure is to send a message of absolute unconditional love to those they really care for. Is it our lack of outreach that stands in the way? Or is it our own failure to believe in the message that has on several occasions been sent to us? You didn’t know that even through silence my love was screaming at your doorstep, slipped in through the keyholes and cracks of your home to where I had mistakenly believed you knew it lingered. I have failed as a person, as a friend, because you don’t know it unless you hear it, unless I scream with all the air in my lungs. It was not enough for me to whisper it into the night sky where I entrusted the light of a star to shower you with all my love as you lay in slumber. My dear friend, I was never not there, I was simply not holding your hand for which I am a thousand times sorry, for it had not occurred to me that you would not know it is there for you to take whenever you so choose to – for whatever reason – big or small. ee cummings said it best when he wrote, “be of love, a little, more careful than of anything else. With that being said, let us not be so careful as to be blind to the love that truly exists. And with my own deepest regrets, let us not fail in our mission to let those we care about know that our presence is not necessary (in flesh or in song) for our love to exist around them – always.