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One of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do, my dear, is grieve the loss of a person who is still alive.

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No one talks about the gut-wrenching regret you feel when you realise your instincts were right all along, but you didn’t listen.

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What runs down from the eye is not water, but a soul which melts and drips.

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“Did you lie to her?”

“Why would I lie to her when she’s all of my secrets?!”

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I loved you with all my bruised heart

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But that’s the irony, broken people are not fragile

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Heyy heyy heyy kiddo. I’m just here to remind you that last time you pulled yourself out of it, didn’t you? Yes yes you did. Last time you found the light; it’s out there. And I know it’s hard as hell to get back out there. But you proved yourself wrong and you got out of this every single time with your strength… a handful of times. So don’t tell me you can’t do it one more time? I know you can and you have the strength. I know right now it doesn’t feel like it; you feel drained and that’s okay. And when you are ready you can fight like hell and get back out there to the light because we are waiting for you out there. Okay?

I know you can do it and I’m proud of you. And I’ll see you out there.

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As the last flicker of the candle died, the whispering shadows in the corner took form, and she realised that she was not alone in her own mind

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“Whenever I fall in love, they just leave me” he said.

“You should try loving your problems, maybe they will leave you too” she replied.

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“I am sorry for this but maybe in another universe.” She said

“Why is it always in another universe, and not this one?” He asked

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When maths teacher walked past my desk and saw poetry instead of equations.

He smiled and said “you are in the wrong classroom.”

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She is so beautiful. Her heart reminds me of my faded innocence. She is so brave. I see myself in her. I see the connection. As I gently weave the threads of my unborn daughter

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“Show me your scars”

“Why?”

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

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Perhaps you were too beautiful to be mine and I was too wounded to be yours.

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Writing is an underestimated art, you are painting colourful images in people’s minds using words of black and white

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I wish I could peel this skin off,

Replace these bones,

Crush this heart, till it’s nothing but dust,

Untangle all these veins, one by one,

Cut off this tongue, silencing every plea,

Carve out these eyes, unsee every truth,

Rip out these lungs, so I can stop breathing in this pain,

Shatter every memory, let them scatter in the wind,

Break these fingers, so they never send you a text again,

I wish I could dissolve my soul.

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I’m kinda jealous how your phone gets to hold your hand all day and I don’t