darkness only scares me
when I think about it too much
otherwise I just become
a part of it
another shadow
a darkness of my own

–

I guess you could say
I have become a recluse
not lonely
just consumed with
myself

–

I was alone again
for breakfast this morning
and I write this, not because
I am lonely
but because I think
breakfast would be better
with you here

–

my mother
seasoned to endure every emotion
every heartbreak
though I see her sometimes
when she thinks she is alone
with a tear in her eye
and it is then I realise
she is hurting
just like me

–

the fear I conjure
between thoughts seems to
possess me more than
anything else

–

I deny myself so much
isn’t that how it is
supposed to be?

–

I craved you sober
loved you drunk
regretted it all

–

because I do not know
how to look at you
like I am not in love with you
this is why our eyes
never meet

–

I grieve by myself

–

I am surrounded by people
whose plans change like the wind
no wonder I trust no one
but myself

–

you have seen my skin
all of it
yet here we sit
in a coffee shop by the window
and as we both watch the rain slide
down the glass
we managed, still
to talk only about our day
and other basic nonsense
as if we were strangers

–

we could of
but you closed your eyes
and looked anywhere
but at me

–

we look at each other
like we are about to kiss
but you would never kiss me
and it breaks me every time

–

you keep asking if I will tell him
but I don’t think you understand
not completely at least
because if you did
you would know that
it would kill me
to hear what he would say back

–

I gave you the power
to destroy me
and you chose words
to ease my soul
but not soothe my heart

–

I want my heart to dance
to feel it beat through my skin
to feel something more than the ache
you put it through
completely unaware

–

I need someone to understand my soul
I have no time to translate

–

he would whisper in the dark
out of fear the world would
hear him
but he feared not their judgements
nor their questions
but their truth
for he accepted that they already knew
he had just hoped that
they still saw him
as they had before

–

she treated me like youth
and I was okay with that
until one day she reached into
her made up cradle she put me in
and stripped me bare

–

people draw the curtains
across not only their windows
but across their souls
what a sad waste

–

we speak the language of goodbye

–

I steal glances at my parents
and I can see that they are haunted
is it by mistakes that have made
opportunities they have missed
I wish I could take that away from them
the hurt, the regret they feel
I wish I could wrap them in my arms
and tell them that I love them
but I am haunted too

–

a quiet moment beneath the blue

–

I could tell you our fortune
or I could do as I always do
and slip away
I’ll spare you the pain
that would have come eventually

–

I am 25 and completely weathered

–

103 days in the green and I have never felt more blue

–

I don’t have the stamina

–

sad people still turn up to the party

–

I’ve been getting colder
for quite some time now
feelings hidden away
deep within the walls
of a man at 25

–

I feel so unattached to society

–

it wasn’t easy getting here
but it’s been a bigger battle trying to
leave

–

I hate that I tolerate

–

I’ve become hard lines and
short conversations
there’s a silent pain
I don’t want you to see

–

there are bloodstains on the linen
the window, still slightly ajar
a cool breeze drifting over my skin
flashes of laughter hitting me from the night before
stale whiskey on the table
where did you go

–

I was driving home in the middle of autumn
arriving just before noon to feelings of emptiness
you weren’t here
and I thought
this couldn’t possible be my home anymore

–

© brandonalexanderthomas