when the world is noisy
and i can't think straight,
you let the rays of the sun
spill into the corners of the storm;
it feels like the smile i stretch
in conversations
with ghosts of the past,
to make tears look like
dew on the undersides of flowers;
but i know that's just you telling me
you love me,
wanting to hold all the sighs
i can no longer contain,
cradling my ache to tenderness.
so i let you love me,
here, under the summer breeze
blowing through the raindrops
perched on my window,
as i rest tonight
weaving a safety net
from the blue yarn of your iris.

-

Blurred lines between celebrating and coping.

-

When you lose battles so you can win wars.

-

Echoes of the world you hear,
all your tongue tastes is fear;
you spin, you slip, but scream to be held near,
buried under words, in silence aching to appear.

-

Creating sanctuaries for tradable public representatives
while the public drowns in devastating floods.

-

Writers inevitably observing the world
despite not being seen themselves.

-

shoving your thought
down someone's throat





acknowledging that the weight of your voice can be rendered into their silence.

-

Humans beings - a miracle of life on a floating rock in the middle of nowhere, living out an endless cycle of despair.

-

We don't realise how much weight we've been carrying until we let it go.

-

in bulldozing voices that question it






in building a common ground where differences don't get to reign.

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