The Day the Sun Burned

Descending from chaos
Is the obscurity
Which no one knows how to view.
Because you’re lifted high enough to fall
Into the broken bones,
Of that which once would catch you.

And you remember what it’s like
To be free.
But you don’t feel.
Because feeling hurts.
It takes too much of a part of you,
And drags across your skin
The marks of those who didn’t believe.
Because remembering is like escaping a burning building
To be faced by flames outside.
Because being distorted became the world you knew,
And the right way was wrong,
And everything you wanted to see
Blinded you.

You were deafened by the sound
Of your own defeat.
And your legs were too frail to keep you
Above the ground
That wanted to swallow you whole. 

But you remembered anyway.
Because feeling your broken reflection behind you was enough to push you forward.
Enough to bring you a world,
That held you in the palm of its hand,
Like a flower picked from the earth,
On the day the sun burned.

And it reminded you,
Of what beauty truly was.

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All We Have Left

You held it in your hands,
The future.
The past.
The cracks of everything
That planted themselves in the gap
Between our paths.
Where the footprints became immortal
In the fate that came from our hearts.

But now you’ve left me in the dark,
Because you created the light,
And the tears in my soul have nothing left
but to stitch themselves up,
With the pain that stains my cheeks.

So frame the distance
And personify the silence
That has nothing left to give.
Just let the rain drown your eyes,
Because too many clouds flood your mind.

And if one day
You see the stars disappearing
Know only that my heart was amongst them.

Our Universe

You told me to look,
And I did.
Under the looking glass
And in the tree.
But all that I found,
Was the reflection of a life
That fell from the branch
He’d sewn onto his heart.

Because he saw a need
Bigger than his own.
That stitched on
More and more,
Until his words became sentences,
And his sentences a story.

And slowly his story formed between his fingertips,
In the gaps where his future
Began.
Because his fingers weren’t the only ones
With a story to tell.

The typewriter that fills our mind,
Looks up at the stars 
As we do.
But they only find the words,
Once we know them.
And when we do,
We create the universe.

Our universe.

And whether we see it or not…

It truly is beautiful.

Tidal Wave

It’s days like these – 
When your walls come crashing in,
And you don’t know whether
You’ve been seen before you’ve been heard – 
When It matters where the rubble falls.

Because no one knows what pain looks like. 
They only see the devastation left in its wake.
The path of your past that stalks your fate,
And crumbles to dust at your back.

Do we stand beneath a tidal wave
Of breaths that fall from the nearest tree
Of insincerity,
When truth presents itself again?

Or do we climb to the lowest point,
And believe that the souls above our heads
Blend with the stars that draw us into their beauty,
Only to realise, we’ve been hanging upside down by a million threads?

The world spins backwards
For those who tip toe the edge.
Because they’re used to collecting the holes
That are drilled deeper into their lives,
Because of shouting scars
That became heavier than the iron in their hearts.
Because they attempt to stay aboard the sinking ship,
When they know that their fingers 
Only grasp for so long.
And that before the deck hits the ocean,
The bar they clung to snapped.

And no matter how much you scrape the sky clean 
In order to savour the sun for a couldy day,
The rain that eradicates your tears,
No longer believes in you.

To Feel To Love

You don’t yet know the difference,
Between beauty or bleak,
Because your heart has never slammed so hard
On its cage 
So that it broke the hand that tried to free it.

You deserve to see the difference.
To know the truth.
But to those who are blind;
It’s never an option.
Only a dream.
And so if they can’t see it,
Why should you?
Why should any of us
Have the right
To a brighter truth than them?

But they can feel.
Everyone can feel.
Whether that be touch,
Or pain,
Or sun,
Or rain,
Or the need to feel someones hand
Entertwined with yours
To know that you are loved.
Or to feel the joy in someones voice,
When on that fateful day of meeting you,
They shyly say “hi.” 

We all deserve to feel love.

So if your heart cries.
With the excluded stories,
It never got to tell,
Don’t weep for it.
Because those hearts that broke,
Can still feel in the shattered pieces
That remain on the ground.

And although Sometimes you have to know when the eyes of love
Can only be subject to so many tears
Before they decide they don’t want to feel,
You have to look a little longer
Into the flecks of insanity,
That brought you this pain in the first place – 
And realise…

It’s a beautiful pain.

Because although you’ve always
Had to spend your days,
Keeping your head above the ground,
For fear that the world only existed
To swallow you whole,
You realise…
That the beauty of you,
Sometimes begins with the word love,

And ends in the colour of your heart.

Broken Skies

When free falling
Through a sea of broken skies,
Don’t let the shards of dreams,
Form the path you land on.

The hearts that broke 
aren’t the only ones 
That took a beating.

And within those blackened veins,
Burns the soul of fighter.
Whose eyes were opened
For the first time,
When you no longer
Looked into them.

On the Wings of a Butterfly

If the butterfly
Who flies,
So erractically,
Beneath the skies,
Can be considered beautiful,

Why can’t I?

Shattered

Rip the mirror from the wall
And tear it to shreds.
It’s nothing more
Than the broken reflection
Of a has been.
A once before.
A happiness that hasn’t followed,
That can’t be reached
By searching.
The reflection has nothing.
You’re no longer whole,
But shattered pieces,
That belong,
In the dust.

Empty Words

You promised.
But you lied.
You knew this wasn’t it,
And yet you left me here to die.
Because you swore,
You hoped
That everything was different.
And being wrong was too much
To bear,
So what did you do?
You ran. Scared.
And who could blame you?
I would want to,
When faced with that kind of shame.
But do your best to find your way home,
Cause I’m no longer playing your game.

Aftermath

You place one foot in the aftermath
And instantly withdraw.
You place one hand through the broken glass,
And only see the sores.
You open your eyes to see the stars,
But are met with only black,
You wish to feel yourself again,
But fear there’s no way back.