Thursday, November 23, 2017

The Way Strangers Laugh

People laugh faster than you.

They laugh without thinking about it and they seem easier in themselves, like they were poured into their skin.

Not like you.

You feel like you're borrowing your skin, waiting for the owner to show up at a party, remember he lent it to you, and ask for it back. 

Sometimes, you look at the stars in the sky like they might be home.

And you try and find yourself in every puddle that you cross in the street.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

The Story Of Everything Starts In All Of Us

Maybe the world isn’t all good, but if you hold my hand, I can prove to you that it’s not all bad either.

There is good love in the hearts of a few, and a few is all you need.

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

The Truth Is A Medicine

Hate is the only illness you can choose to get better from.

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

The Waste Of A Good Heart

Who are you still competing with in your good heart, and will you really waste your last words on your deathbed to say, "Do you see? I won."

Monday, October 30, 2017

The Day My Reflection Took My Place

We were walking past the lake, when my reflection took my place.

It held your hand and watched you slowly drift away from me.

It threw a plate against a wall the night after you left, when it relealised you were never coming back.

It drove around for hours on its own, not knowing where to go.

It held the phone, not knowing who to call.

And this is the only way I can explain to anyone what I'm doing, underneath the water.

Monday, October 23, 2017

The Living And The Brave

There is no bravery in a gun.

Brave is saying no to the comfort that kills you.

There is no bravery in a fist.

Brave is singing Kumbaya softly to a screaming baby.

There is no bravery in a flag.

Brave is holding onto the air itself to stop yourself from falling into yourself.

There is no bravery in a crowd.

Brave is knowing who you are, even when everyone else doesn’t.

There is no bravery when it's easy.

Brave is carrying on and on, and looking and finding all the angles and all the keys, and turning every single one.

There is no bravery in bright light.

Brave is fighting the sun itself for the right words to talk yourself off the ledge.

There is no bravery in hurt.

Your bravery is kneeling on the ground.

In the end, your bravery is living.

Monday, October 16, 2017

The Good Engine

I know you and I know your engine. Your engine runs on truth and light and nothing else works, I've seen you try and fill it with the kind of lies people want to hear and it was like watching someone fill their gas tank with sugar. Sweet, but going nowhere.