I Was Wondering Why You Two Began To Effortlessly Blend,

I was wondering why you two began to effortlessly blend,

You both seemed to constantly go hand in hand,

It troubled me for weeks,

Was there something wrong with me

That forbade me from entering your sacred ring?

Then it all came to fruition,

An epiphany at midnight, as sweet and natural as birds first flight;

The toxic group together with incredible might,

What better way for you to wallow in self-pity,

Than to gather in small numbers and complain about how you’re living?

So I’ve decided that I won’t let it trouble me any longer,

And for that I believe I am much stronger.

Hanahaki disease

Heaving, The flutter in my lungs grows each time I inhale. Choking, It's enamouring flocculence rises up my throat as my face turns pale. Coughing, Its softness caresses the inside of my mouth as its scent infatuates my senses. Spluttering, It reveals its scarlet shade from the corner of my lips, prohibiting denial-filled sentences. Gagging, The clusters of sweetness drift forward, spilling themselves onto floor. Crying, The petals have made me breathless once more. Weeping, They could make the prettiest rose ever cited. Sobbing, But they'll never flow together, because this is Unrequited.

Persephone

Don’t look for me.

For I am buried under the sand that you deposited in the bottomless sea,

I suffocate everyday but I can’t scream whilst you’re not listening,

I’m trapped in the time that you created and when I think I can breathe, the air is forced out of me.

I could reach out my withering hand and have you pull me from the dark,

But I’d rather claw my way through the hot pit to which I have been cursed,

I’ll choke, blinded as I fight my way upward, forcing your prison away,

Instead of accepting your hand, as you planned me to do, tying me to your eternal winter,

When I could be greeted by Spring if I only rely on me.

So, don’t look for me.

For I’ll be gone by the time your boredom forces you to wonder,

All that will be left is a whisper by the shore,

But when you realise the mistakes you made, saturated with your unquenchable hate

I’ll be floating with the clouds on the warm Spring air,

And I’ll be so big and so far away that I’m untouchable,

And when you look at me from the sand below, all you might receive from me is a brief hello.

So please, don’t look for me.

I’ll make it on my own.

My Ship pt 3

So when I was forced to flee,

To escape your toxic clutches,

I left half of what I was,

With my ship destroyed and rusted.

A cautionary tale for young travellers at sea,

Do not stop at any nearby beach,

Your trust will be exploited and your kindness betrayed,

Remain free on the sea for all your days.

The hardest thing is feeling you everywhere.

I see your reflection in my morning coffee,

I feel your warmth in the summer breeze,

I hear your whispers in my favourite songs,

But I still can’t find you.

The seconds count

Isn’t it odd that of all the hands on a clock, the second hand, bearing the smallest, shortest moments, ticks the most? Each tick sounds through our ears reminding us that every single second is an opportunity lost, or taken. And let us not abandon the fact that of all the hands on a clock, the second hand, bearing the smallest, shortest moments, is longer than the minute hand, and the hour hand. Because a second that passes could last a lifetime, remembered more than the hours and minutes and days that pass.