Her

She was aesthetically pleasing, with a face that spoke a different language, the pores on her skin, were similar to maps I’d never travelled, and worlds I’d never seen, she had solar systems in her eyes, and stars engraved into her soul, she held a love so pure, so authentic, so irreplaceable.

If  you were lucky enough to hold her, you wouldn’t be able to let go, you’d fall in love with the warmth, the passion of her mind, the spirit in her confidence, and the hospitality that came with the flash of her smile, her eyes would tell you stories, of places she’d never been, of things you couldn’t imagine, worlds that hadn’t been discovered,

 She’d make them a reality from within her dreams

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Mindless consumption

And when I looked at you, the stars descended into the pupils of your eyes. It gave me the light I had hopelessly been seeking, in a time where the light at the end of the tunnel was a lie, fabricated.

How I had desired the tranquility, the peace, the influence you seemed to possess, and loathed your ability to only avail it when your authority was questioned. 

I assimilated to your every human sense; your entire being. My body would synergise at the mere sight of you, confirming the enslavement of my heart. You were the drug I was warned about – but was mindless enough to consume anyway


Almost worthwhile

We got too hung up on details, like the curves within the clouds, the formation of the moon, the faces lining the crowds and the alignment of the stars, we got too held up by descriptions, like it could change our destiny, heal us and remove our scars, but the truth was in the kiss, the touch and the trust, simpatico in every respect, but too much of a good thing can ruin the spell of lust, the smell of flowers disappeared, the air felt unclean, you tasted different, the grass was no longer green, the sun backed away from us and left us with winter rain, the stars got dimmer and the evenings became tame, the enchantment became gloomy, the pressure was intense, I used to look at you like a queen, but then I saw sense, I spoke with the sky, surrounded myself in nature, I fixated myself with my brain so to myself I was no longer a stranger, I held my sense of purpose, I walked with a smile, I’m so proud to be who I am now that meeting you, was almost, almost worthwhile 

Summon me

Pretend I’m your cigarette, inhale my scent, take my glass shaped tears and wipe them away, tell me what I meant to you, as a lover and a friend, tell me you respect me, that you miss me, and fill your lungs with intent, stare at me like the scenery on a cold winters day, replay our memories together whilst you take a sip from the bottle, remember how held each other before we went opposite ways, trample on the leaves like my heart was just laid bare, blow the wisps of wind away from your face, blow them into the air, because I’m just a ghost of this past, erased in your time, did I ever really exist to you, or was I just a figment of your mind?

Supernova

Admire me like the night sky, wrap me in your starry armour, breathe your consciousness through my bleeding veins, and bring me back to your reality, every breath I take in your name causes stars to explode, like the butterflies that crash around destructively in my stomach, imploding on impact – you’re my supernova 


You’re my favourite place (extract)

As we lay in bed letting the evening fall upon us, too tired to move, too weak to try, I let your hand clutch mine. Our fingers entwined, your body leant against mine, I could feel your breath upon my pimpled skin, it was trembling. You were scared, I was scared. Your skin, soft to the touch, was warmer than a roaring fire in the middle of winter. Out of every place I had ever visited, every attraction within the world, your arms were still my favourite place to visit. And re visit daily


The unknown

I, like so many souls before me, have entered the unknown. I’ve stood before the skies in their brazen glory and I’ve clasped my hands together and demanded answers from a planet that is unwilling to provide them. I too have fallen victim to a life of the subconscious, half awake, half asleep, half alive – and half dead. I’ve spent many nights wandering the bitter, empty streets searching for myself. How does one discover their meaning? How does one enable themselves to live peacefully in a world that’s constantly begging to be destroyed? Tell me how to close my eyes and not see the destruction of the planet laid before me in haunting dreams