The Willing Blind

There are things worth seeing. Open your eyes.

The Orphan Sun

Let’s find a star that's lost its way and take it in. Nurture it. Make it last forever.

Intimacy on Paper

I read History books and they forgot about us.
I read The Bible and it didn’t mention us.
But we were great.

The Perfect Suffocation

I'm almost out of air. You can have my last breath, if you want.

The Lack of Happy Endings

It doesn’t matter how far you go, or what you do when you arrive. What matters is what you saw on the way, and who you spent the journey with.

Losing Myself

You have the most beautiful eyes, I loved them first. I fell the whole way into them, and I still haven’t found my way out.

The Lack Of Opinion

You were fascinating. And fascinated.
I wonder sometimes, which is the more defining characteristic?

There Are No Straight Edges In Nature

Don’t cower from the rain. Walk in it, dance in it, revel in the beauty of the world splitting open, and beginning afresh.

A Good Place To Begin Again

Find a song that makes you smile. Learn the words. Sing it every day.

Beyond Ghosts

A person cannot truly die, if he is remembered. His thought, his feelings, what he gave to the world is here, in you. And he can tell his message, through you.
To the same degree, if he hides away, and gives nothing, takes nothing in return; he is dead while his heart still beats. And he has no message to tell.

We're Gonna Turn Frustration Into Inspiration

Anger and hate inspires us. Something wrong with the world? Go out there. Fight it. Change it. Put right wrongs and preserve the good. Be the one we will remember for years to come, as the one who did something about it.

The Stars That Put Out Their Light

Since that day, I haven’t cried. And you haven’t smiled.

Talk Me Down From The Edge

You've fallen and you've forgotten who you are. But you can create magic again with your words. I will be the one to the listen.

The Road to Perdition

Breath child, it’s over. Take off your heels and stand three feet tall. Are they happy now?

Are you?

The Lips That Part With Promise

Jesus Christ, didn’t anyone ever talk to you before me?
But I imagined that no one had. People around here don’t waste words; language is a tool, not a treat. You don’t taste it, roll it on your tongue, revel in it. No one speaks quite like you.

Childhood Is A Promise That's Never Kept

At the time I didn’t have the insight to wonder at the transient nature of despair. But now I’m older I’ve seen how little it takes to change someone’s life for the better. An event will do, or an idea. A person. An idea of a person.

This Is The World

In this world, perfection is the standard. Anyone failing to exceed this standard will be punished disproportionately to their offense. Those who commit a minor error in judgement will be metaphorically castrated and anally violated simultaneously and constantly for an indeterminate time period. Those who drastically fuck up will be chastised privately, then promoted to a position that is even further above their already exceeded level of incompetence. If anyone doubts this, just look around you.

The Momentary Collision

The butterfly alit on my palm, entering my life for just a moment, its eyes grazing mine and in that moment it tells me its story. A story of freedom, and flight, and flowers. And then it leaves, flys away, colour disappearing into blinding blue. I still think about that butterfly sometimes. And I miss it.

Oh, how I wish it might have stayed.

"I can't make everything better" "Show me something you can't fix"

We’re in the woods, just the two of us. I have on my best trainers, the ones with rainbow laces and the place on the back that Max chewed through when he was just a puppy. Your steps are bigger than mine but it’s a game – I try to jump into the hole your shoes leave behind. I’m a frog; I’m a kangaroo; I’m magic.

“My legs hurt” I tell you
“It’s just a bit further.”
You sit and pull me down beside you, point through the undergrowth “Do you see it?”
I shake my head and you pull me up, pushing towards a tree until I climb. “The pond, do you see the pond?”
From up here, I can. It is a fractured, jagged edge lying on the ground.
"When the world breaks apart, I can't fix it"

The One-Way Mirror

Don’t judge me, until you’ve seen the view from here. You are only as invincible as your smallest weakness, and those are tiny indeed – the length of a sleeping baby’s eyelash, the span of a child’s hand. Life turns on a flip of a coin, as – it turns out- does one’s conscience.

Everything's Temporary, If You Give It Enough Time

There is a child, wearing my clothes, and my skin, and my scent, but isn’t me. Sin is like ink, it bleeds into a person, coloring, making you someone other than you used to be. And it’s indelible. Try as hard as you like, you can never get yourself back.
Words can’t pull me back from the edge. Neither can daylight. This isn’t something to get over, it is an atmosphere I need to learn to breath, grow gills for transgression, and take it into my lungs with every gasp.
It is a startling thing. I wonder who this person is, going through the motions of my life. I want to take their hand, comfort them.

And then I want to push this stranger, hard, off a cliff.

The Individual Terror

I need not your wicked weapons, my war is not with someone like you, and my enemy is a willing victim.

The Distancing Fiction

I am the physical embodiment of a story. Every time I move my arm or open my mouth or words stumble off of my tongue and I make a fool of myself, it’s another page, another sentence, another scene in a story I’ll tell later, at some later date, as if all of that is in the past, behind me now. But that’s a big lie, like most of the stories I tell, and I’ll just continue writing it all with the swaying motion of my tongue and arms and lungs.
I tell stories sometimes to relate, escape, entertain, and connect with others. But mostly I tell stories because, as a child, I realized that nothing would properly convey the way that I felt, what I wanted, or where I needed to be the way that a story could. A specific example would be every time that I’ve lied about seeing a movie when someone asks a group “Has anyone seen [insert movie here]?” I’d say "yes, of course! Of course I have, I thought we were the only ones!" And instantly I’d created a story, a story about a time I’d gone to the movies with a family member or by myself or with friends. And it had a theatre name (Finchley Vue cinema), a time (1:20 PM Saturday, August 12th), and an opinion (Eh, it was alright). I do all of this because the truth of the matter, deep down underneath the folds of the details and lies, was that I didn't want anyone to know what I was really doing, or what I really thought. Instead, I tell them what other people, good people, did, what they thought.

This is the reason I lie. This is the reason I tell stories. This is the reason I am alive, to tell the story of the things that never came to pass, of the people who aren’t around to speak it for themselves.

The Necessary Ruin

You know, for the longest time, I was waiting to love someone like I loved you. But somewhere along the way I realized; that’s not going to happen. And that’s okay. You were my first love, when I was just a romantic kid. You never love someone the way you love in innocence, pure and unafraid because you’ve never experienced it before. But you’ve got to grow up sometime. And I did.

A song's only sad if it's got nothing to say

And you never spoke just to fill the silence.

Run away with innocence, leave me with my sins

Maybe before we met, I passed you in a crowd somewhere. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention and I missed your brilliance. Maybe you passed me, unaware of my presence, not knowing what we would become.
Maybe we will meet again someday, in a crowd. Maybe we will not recognise each other, for we both have changed.
So now I search crowds wherever I go.
This time I will make sure to notice you.

The Cutting of the Gordian Knot

Why settle for messy honesty, when you can breathe a perfect lie?

The Ones That Never Were

Life is what happens when all the ‘what ifs’ don’t

Because I Know How You Feel

I don’t know if loneliness can ever fully be cured from someone. It’s like a wretched disease that buries itself so far deep inside your bones, that even if it’s subsided by a touch or a night or even years spent with another, that it could still come back to haunt you. I don’t know if I can cure your loneliness, but I can come over and we can make hot chocolate (Because I know you’re cold) and lay beneath the covers of your bed (because I know you're tired) and play that I-wonder-how-long-it-takes-to-suffocate-by-the-way-it-smells-like-mint-under-here game until we fall asleep.

The Blood of a Thousand Foes

Speaking louder than ignorance, because we spoke in silence, the blood of a thousand foes upon our lips, and the screams of our friends in our ears.

Exposed to the Elements

You were a tree that stood alone, battered by the wind, bruised and unsheltered but still standing. Still strong.
Us, insignificant shrubs at your base, sheltered from harm. By you.
Little knowing, one day you would falter and crush us all.
"Tell me now; if a tree falls and everyone looks away, does it make a sound?"
I heard.

The Unexpected

This child you've been waiting for is not who you've imagined him to be. You're strangers now; you'll be strangers years from now.

The Hope Beyond Reason

We were pawns on a chess board of magnificent proportions, trying to play the game.

They couldn't take away his throne

A child, walking to the store each morning to buy bubblegum, would often see another walking the other way.
"Where are you going?" asked the first.
"I'm going where ever the dice may fall" the other responded.
This reply stopped the first child, who immediatly went back to his father for help "Tommorow morning, when you see him ask the same question. When he gives the same answer, then you ask him: "Suppose you have no dice, then where are you going?" That'll fix him"
The children met again the next morning.
"Where are you going?" asked the first
"I'm going wherever the wind blows," answered the other.
This reply stopped the youngster, who hurried back to his father.
"Ask him tommorow where he's going if there is no wind. That'll fix him"
The next day the children met a third time.
"Where are you going?" asked the first child.
The other replied "I'm going to the store to buy bubble gum."