Feeling so weary sitting on this couch. I’m exhausted. It’s not a physical exhaustion, although the physical demands play a part. My soul seeks rest. The places that I used to find it hold no comfort these days and I feel as though I am floating from moment to moment, waiting for when I can close my eyes. The anxiety makes all the sounds too loud and distorted, the lights too harsh and bright. I find myself longing for the quiet and solitude of my bedroom, although even then I rarely find some peace. The noise inside my head is the loudest, it will not quiet even for a moment. The thoughts roll around and around, becoming louder and louder and I turn to the words I love so much, the words that quiet my soul. I thank you then for creating for me a safe haven, even when the words aren’t so beautiful, even when the truth is dark and painful and rips open old wounds. I thank you. Your words remind me that there is another way to see this world, another way to see the beauty, another way to find release and this is all I’ve ever wanted.




When I cannot find the words I admire his face instead. I trace every line, every strand of hair, the depth of those shimmering eyes and I try to mentally will him to cry. Sometimes I think he isn’t human, he seems so jaded by life, it makes me wonder if his mind thinks of the things he has been programmed to think, subconsciously he thinks them, repeats them, never believing them and always trying to convince himself that he doesn’t really think them. Every inch of him is so beautiful and all I really want is to watch him bleed, whether it be his heart onto paper or his pain into tears that roll down his cheeks, I want to witness his weakness. I want to see that he bleeds red just like me. I wouldn’t take advantage of his vulnerability, as much as I would want to. I just want to see him fall apart, just one time. I want to see that he is real and not something that I have dreamt up. I want to wipe away his tears and feel their weight between my fingertips. I want to see if they sparkle as brightly as the rest of what I love about him does. I want to see if his blood will stain me as deeply as the rest of him has.

The Light


What was I trying to say just then? The words didn’t make any sense once they touched the page. My thoughts, a whirlwind of butterflies, dancing in an autumn breeze- beautiful but still I cannot grasp them. I was trying to tell you about the emptiness, but now I’m emptied of words, there’s none left to use. I’ve lost my momentum. I’m not like the rest of them you know, who take and take and take. I want to give you all of me and show you what it’s like. It has to be you because there’s a weakness in you that I can fill with the dimming light in me. Let me fill you with my darkness and I’ll drink from yours in return. It has to be You because you understand, even when you don’t. We live these mediocre lives, always searching for the greatness inside, telling ourselves we don’t need another soul. But I need you and you need me and it’s a pity it wasn’t written in the stars for us because together, we could’ve created something magical.