Poetry (words)

Silence 

Without words everything is simple. No communication allows us to go blindly forward whilst changing nothing. That’s the point isn’t it. To change is to become active and face the things we fear. 

To sit in silence and watch is the easy option, but eventually you become the very thing you despise most. The cause, the know all, the do nothing, the one who let it pass unhindered. 

“Nothing is worth too much effort” If you can’t buy it it’s not worth anything much. And so it goes that we fill the emptiness with the inanimate and on occasions we’ll wipe the dust off. 

We love what surround ourselves with.

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Poetry (words)

Craving

It starts in your mind and moves through your soul. You know that a replacement could never make you whole. The craving isn’t about the satisfaction or the means to an end, it’s about the desire, the drive, the emotional depths you’d go through to reach it. 

And once you reach it, you understand why you need it. 

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Poetry (words)

Eyeballs to entrails 

(One of those days when I feel like the luckiest person alive. When I refuse to let everything that’s bad leave a stain on what’s beautiful)

I find constant inspiration in his eyes. How thoughtful he becomes just soaking up the silence. How at ease his heart is with just being, his mind.

His presence like a drug instantly heightening all of my senses. This kaleidoscope of colours that he brings to my world, his beauty. 

I’m the bravest of warriors because he’s on my side. His heart takes bullets on my behalf and turns them into doves, his love.

I’m insatiable for him. Relentlessly craving his touch. He gives passion meaning, he takes lust and turns it into something spiritual, his sensuality. 

Every fibre of my being loves every sinew of him, eyeballs to entrails, ceaselessly.

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Poetry (words)

Drifting 

Took a boat out on the water to escape the endless hum. Looking to a new horizon for the person I’ve become. 
Every battle that I go through, leaves its scar upon my soul. The coldest of shoulders that I lean on and I’m feeling less than whole. 

Is there such a thing as certainty something more than here and now? A place where words we’ve spoken remain reality somehow. 

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