write what hurtsi'm here to tell youabout fire and living& how both burn even if you ignore themit's not about what feels goodit's about what doesn'tcornering what hurtsand exposing itreally displaying itpedestal on highfor what it isand not what it pretends to beyou are not livinguntil you hurtyou can't be aliveif all you know is comfortcomfort is only a signthat you are doing what you knowit is admittance of limitationbecause you are humanand only know so muchand it's agonising to thinkthat you can be comfortable with thatand not want to reach outand touch every thing you findand read every book you seeand hear every sound you canbecause enough is never enoughis never enough is alwaystoo much.
For Oncefor once, i'd like to forget you without someone telling me it's in my hands.and i've wished that for so long, i don't even remember anymore. you weren't my hero; you were my smile. my smile incarnate. without the soul dying behind it, or sealing lies with a twitch of a muscle. just my smile.but this is before the big bang of reality and insecurity; this is before you and i started living in the real world. back when our seeds were sown in the field of your desires, that is where we were. reality wasn't even our common denominator. we were just figments of someone else's imagination, and god, was it perfect.for once, i'd like to forget you without feeling each suppressed memory resurface.and i've wished that seldom, since i never try too hard if i can't leave you behind. but this is not you - this is the you i used to know. this was you in your moment of weakness where you welcomed me in robes of heaven's colours and a fanfare even the most pious danced to. i walked into the doors
Believe MeI knowYou keep six billion secretsbehind the bends of your knees.But if you let me uncurl your legsI could let every guilt ridden pound of shamefloat away on summer breezes.And if you realized how light your limbs really are,would you finally dance with me?And I knowYou trap all of your feelingsin the dips of your collarbone.Chained down in folds of skin,If you let me pick this lockI can release all those emotions you're so afraid of havingAnd if you see your own feet unbound,would you finally run free with me?And I knowYou cradle doubts and insecuritiesin the palms of your hands.They leak into your blood stream,weighted down fears and uncertaintysinking like rocks to the bottom of your heart.But if you let me kiss down every vein in your wrist,would you finally believe you're beautiful?
on casting hope asidethe very ground we stand on is unseen. i know very little, but i know that your eyes are green, and that it never fails to strike me like a blow of lightning each time i find them so close to mine.your father is a carpenter and your mother cuts hair. you are on your way to becoming a neuroscientist and have a fascination with shoulder musculature. you live further away from me than i deem comfortable, and you have two brothers, one of whom is an exact replica of you, five years in the past. i find this endearing but because you knew i would, i refuse to tell you. i also will not tell you how hard it is for me to fall for someone as easy to fall for as you. i resist with every inch of tension in my skin to feel the fire that alights in my belly when you remove the space we both painfully know is present between us. i snap myself like an elastic band to a colder, lonelier place to keep hope offshore, drifting
an hour i can never get backthe light overheadfluorescent like thatin a train station-millions of milesheld in the same breathbeneath the same roof-flutter in rolling hillssometimes like the moonand sometimes like the sun.it is like the day and nightof you that i see-the day, so many more mileslike that train station,than the complete lack of spaceand utter abeyance of distancewe would find at night.i fear that,maybe,your absent heartwill become ugly to me;that,simply your fearwill turn my hurt to flame.it is already too muchto flicker from rose to dessicationin the matter of timesthe secondhand twitches.all i ask is forhonesty, as exposed astree roots to the desert sandstorms.in turn,i promise peace, ease,and the everlong reliefthat i will be quietfor you once more.
we don't sound like a whisper.The sun never sets over the water, but you still take me there whenever dusk comes to meet the horizon. We sit out on the rocks with me tucked tight against your chest, while you count stars like other people count blessings, but we're only half lucky with all these city lights ruining your chances. I know you're tired, love, but I'm terrified. I'm running out of ways to stop myself from telling you I miss you because twenty four hours isn't a long time to be separated and I'm really just more afraid of what you're doing when I'm not there -- and of what you're thinking when I am. I've been burnt enough times before to learn that loving with only half your heart will save you from the fire, but I know that's not what I'm doing here. I don't want you to be a mistake worth making. I want this to be real this time.I keep playing out all the ways you could hurt me in my head, not because I think you will, but because it'll sting less if it actually happens. I've learned to prepare myself
Tip of the Day: Measuring SuccessI don't consider my work a success by how much the movie made in the theaters or if it won any Oscars. Success to me is measured by the amount of effort I put into the project.You can't always control the outcome but you can control the amount of effort you give. Don't worry about things beyond your control.Sending positive vibes to you all!Bobby