The Ivy Messages

Get up, brush off your shame, and come outside.

We're all waiting for you.

The Silence

I cannot speak now. What I saw silenced me. So now we speak with our hands, signing in a language no one else understands. I touch your hand and I wonder; In our new voice, these fingers are our lips. Does that make this a kiss?

The Scars Bear No Colour Of The Rainbow.

Today the brightest green of new buds met the clearest blue of the sky. And the blue met the yellow of a freshly picked daisy, which brought with it the clearest white of newly fallen snow. With them travelled the soft pink of a child's cheek, blended with the black of a starless night and the orange of this summer's brightest midday sun. On the road the purple of heather ran alongside as dog to his master. And as they moved on together, they left our world the bleakest grey.

Only then did we notice we'd chased all the colours away.

The Boy Who Crawled To The Moon

I tried to define love once. There's a part of my brain still trying, locked in a tiny back room of my mind, refusing to come out until it has an equation that works.

The Letter To The Past

Dear you,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for whatever it was that made you hate me so much. Or seem to hate me. Is there really any difference, now? I'm sorry for whatever made you hurt so bad you took it out on me. I'm sorry for not being a good kid, for messing up, for getting in the way. You opened my eyes and what I saw blinded me. But at least, for a single moment, I saw. That's more than most people can say.
So I wish I could stay, but I think it's time to go now. My story started with a beating and a scream, and it stops, for you, on a train journey away with a rucksack and a head full of hurt and dreams. Not all stories have a happy ending.

Goodbye.
Love,

Me.

The Correction

God damn punk, boy who cried wolf; hold his hand one more time, scream at the top of his lungs for him, that for the first time in years, yes, he can be that person.

The way you held my hand just a little right after I first saw you - my all-time wish-list, mile-marker. There are no words, no language suitable to describe you. I know I am so difficult, do everything you tell me not to, don't listen and don't shut my mouth, but I'm learning to want to be so much better for you. And I know I do almost everything wrong, I really do just want you to be happy, cared for, loved so well. I know it seems like I will never stop being this way but have faith in me. I don't deserve it but I will get this right. I will get me right.

The Dark Side Of The Moon

I used to see life in you, but I’m not even sure you see life in yourself anymore.

The Paper Trail

I never want the ability to put you into words.

The Beauty Is Weakness Is Beauty

You’re in a bad way. It looks like you’re developing a soul.

The Pretty Omissions

People tell me my words are beautiful and I brush them off because in truth my words are meaningless. They are like nets I cast beneath my feelings even as I am thinking that emotions are as smooth and liquid as water, and will slip straight through. I throw my word nets in the hope it will convey what I mean when I know in reality that they cannot possibly hold all that I feel when I look at you.

The Dreamer Locked In Sleep

Maybe I should be face down in the dirt, with a smile and a half pack of cigarettes. In some far flung reality, lacking the capability to pick myself up off the ground. In a back alley puking up my ego while a stranger rubs my back as I think about all her flaws. Instead I’m trying to walk and all I can focus on is your smile.

The Establishment

I was made, not manufactured.

The Interrupted Mendacity

The whole way home I thought of blueberries and blood; indelible things, and wondered how long it takes for a soul to come clean.

The Mountains And The Valleys

You remind me of every character I’ve ever read. Every story I’ve ever heard.

Tonight, you’re part of the human heart. And the human heart is part of you.

The Looming Pillars Of Society

He was a good man doing a great man's job, while all the great men were busy making bombs.

The Dirty Little Saviour

You're wrong, my dear; it's when I'm completely sober that I'd like to blow my brains out to make it stop. Delusion is little price to pay for life.

The Immortally Fading Beauty

It's not a because or an in spite of. It is what it is to that person. Not even one other person can encapsulate all that we're feeling. What we're feeling is meant to be felt only by us and no one else, so that when you ever meet someone with the same experiences, you know that they are who they are.

The Shadow On The Cave’s Wall

You can't explain freedom to someone who doesn't know they're caged.

The Solitude With Falling Leaves

I'm terrified to stop writing, because when I do I'll have to think about all the things that are slowly killing me.