11:33 Where the darkness meets the light

 

The cold wind blows through,

wrapping me in its icy blanket

as I breathe condensation

to the condescending air.

11:32

Not even midnight.

Not even late

But you have soured

the taste with your

bitter tirade.

 

You spiked every drink with spite,

soured my food

then forced fed another bite.

You over-seasoned my mind with doubt,

clouding my skies with questions,

like why am I here? Why does nobody care?

Would anyone notice if I vanished into nothing?

Making me think I don’t belong in the same air,

then later telling me that I was wrong,

you just wanted me to feel strong

by filling me with fear.

11:32

and I’m in the middle of nowhere.

No hope to cling to, just an empty sky,

yet I’m grasping for the air.

 

And I feel the cold against my eyes

as the tears trickle down from the corners.

In my blurred corneas all I see

is the city light,

the traffic driving so fast below me.

but it’s all blurred into a mind flare

and I could jump. I could let go

and take that step into the air.

11:32 and I’m clinging on to the only thoughts

that I have ever known to be true.

That my heart is love,

maybe you can’t see that

through you dirt crusted view.

 

And as I’m wobbling precariously

I wonder what the world would say

about me, what would be written the next day?

11:32 the questions buffer through,

what if they knew the truth about you?

How you get so scared, how you feel so blue,

how so alone it feels even in a crowded room.

How the only comfort is the words you use.

And how few have actually seen the real you.

 

But then I see that star.

The one that shines every night.

The one that lightens the load on my mind.

And for a second. A smile. Then two seconds.

Then a minute.

And I’m being held in this moment.

Tightly.

Warmly.

Loved.

And if it isn’t real

I don’t really care,

For right now

it is stopping me falling.

For I’m not alone.

And those voices I hear so loudly

are only bad memories played internally.

11:33 and I walk away

and I let the nighttime guide me

for there are always better things

that sit where the darkness meets the light.

Dreaming

 

Someone once asked this,

can dreams really exist?

And in my mind, I’m thinking

of a moment of bliss somewhere

where, yes, those dreams live,

They don’t always come easy,

they don’t always

present themselves with a bow,

wrapped in ribbons and a note,

But they sort of float through the air

and if you just throw out your hand,

grab them like a shooting star,

pull them into your heart,

let its warmth

be the spark

to warm their core,

then for sure those dreams can

always walk through your door.

 

But can they REALLY exist?

Can reality and dream

merge into a world where

Sunsets sit in tangerine kisses,

and the waterfalls flow around us,

could this be a reality

or is it just deluded fantasy,

poetic reveries playfully paraded as

a destination where we can be?

And I say yes.

Anything can happen with

the power of a kiss,

the magic of a heart that beats,

the lifting song of the sky,

the droplets of tears that form a sea

in which to dive.

Anything can be true,

if you believe in you.

 

But if dreams can be real,

if they really exist,

then why do we not

always live in this magic?

Because pain and hurt,

though tragic, are needed to

break through the static.

To lift the highs even higher.

To make those sighs sing softer

and to give us new pathways to follow.

Our dreams are already real.

We feel magic every single day,

in every smile raised,

in every heartbeat raised,

in every note played.

So, tune out the noise

and tune in to the heart,

and let the songs sway you

into a world of dreams.

Fragments of a broken sky

 

Fragments

of a broken sky

fall, like the

scattershot

daydreams

that once flew so high.

I catch them.

Every one.

Confetti memories

of days in the sun.

 

Fragments of wonder soar

through the cracked atmosphere,

the fractured membrane of

the place where yesterday’s tears

pool up, before

raining down some more.

I let each teardrop soak me.

Each one heavier than the last.

Each one a bigger splash

and I’m soaked through.

Ring me dry and I’d cover

the land in ocean.

Ring me and I’d answer

in floods of emotion.

 

Fragments of yesterday.

Fragments of today,

scattered with memories

and snapshots of days.

I can still taste the lips of

happier times, but now

I slip and fall to the ground.

 

Fragments of you

as I walk through fields of truth.

The grass always grey

without the colour of hope

to paint the day.

Fragments of you, when through

the fields I sway.

The dew colluding to always

soak through these shoes,

but each step makes the energy thrive,

because every bone,

every heartbeat feels more alive

than they have ever felt in life.

 

And even

when standing alone

in a downpour,

I catch raindrops

and store every delicate touch.

For each is like

your fingers gently stroking

my cheeks, your love streaks

through my heart

and my pulse reaches a peak.