despite everything

you get your dreams for a while. you build them.

the world deals you cards you never, ever expected. you find yourself turning into someone else. hurting someone you thought you loved – so much, so very much.

how do you find it to forgive yourself?
how do you find it to get up the next day?

and you miss it all. you miss what it meant, what it could have been.
but that was then. this is now. now what? where do we begin?


Do I dare?

I can’t say the words, so I wrote you into my verse. – Poet; Bastille

There was a point I foolishly picked you to partake in a wondrous thing now past, passed over so easily. Like plates, piled in the sink after all the guests have left, leaving us with nothing but the air to fill the spaces we emptied out for each other: blind but blinking; massive crates and caves even light refuses to enter.

Congratulations, you’re the first one in a long time to leave me with the words still floating in my mouth.