pillow for your thoughts.

i`ve always thought that one day, i will reach a certain point in my life, and from then on live in a constant state of contentment, and ultimately die happy. but now i realise how naive i`ve been.
    if i search for a turning point, a day when my life suddenly changes,then i will never find  it. this internal peace appears haphazardly in single moments; sometimes due to a series of uncaused events, and occasionally from my own doing.
    i think i understand now that i cannot find happiness, nor must i wait for it. instead i must embrace it as it passes, like a warm breeze in winter, or a smile from an unlikely stranger, and reflect on it as i look back and watch it fade out of existence. i ought to be comforted by these brief seconds of pure ecstasy, not remorseful as i am left to stand alone in the snow again.
    not regretful that i perhaps didn`t make the most of it, but touched that
    happiness chose me today.
  
    now, i think i can sleep without interruption. and who knows? maybe, if i`m lucky,i might die happy after all.

i have a second friend ...

i have friend who, despite being a devoted pessimist, shares his rare optimism and caring nature with everyone around him, stranger or companion. he has a pure talent for grasping difficult conecpts and facing new challenges, helped with an endless knowledge of things you wished you knew but didn't. he strives to do his best in everything he does, but is not obsessed with perfection. always honest to the heart, he accepts people for who they are and has no shame in who he is - which are qualities that very few people attain in a lifetime.

"In the whole of one’s life there are moments of pleasure and pain, ecstasy and joy, and even those rare moments of insight. But none of them compare to the utter peace and comfort that comes from seeing yourself through your beloved’s eyes; through their joy in you. This moment will come when you least expect it, and from it comes a kind of peace so profound that it defies description."

detachment.

boots sink through the thick, inviting canvas
soles are placed beneath, on the
cold, brittle ground
eyes follow every stride
as soon as footstep appears
an indentation on hidden pavement
it fades away
it was never there
nor was i.

i stand, still, across the road,
watching my troubled soul
shuffle slowly through the debris
occasionally, my gaze will lift,
pause in reflection
stare quietly at the subtle beauty
surrounding my insignificance
how wonderful the world is
and yet, it takes so much effort
so many choices
so many moments
to be a part of it.
in an instant, it fades away
it was never there
and nor was i.

green coat.

deep, seducing eyes.
cold, judgemental, yet with so much capacity to love.
one day.

you push me, right to the edge,
and then you lay your hand on my arm.
to the point of hysterical, its hard to see how
you have no idea who you are.

you don't walk; you strut.
you don't smile; you smirk.
you don't laugh; you sneer.
and yet; people love you for it.

they love you too much.

sharp heels, clicking on the linoleum floor.
how ironic. you fit in because you have to,
but not for long.

you carry a resilient storm
to protect you from the rain, an admired accessory.
its doesn't stop you
from hurling thunder, lightning, hail
at others - tell me, when do you go too far?

we aren't like you.
words hurt, actions wound
like splinters, shards of glass.
or maybe thats just me.

oblivious.

you sit there, alone.
head resting against the window
eyes closed, mouth still.

i stride past, and look up
out of curiosity
and see you there, oblivious.

first i greet you, loudly
i wave my arms, jump around
smile; surely, you'll see me.

yet you stay unmoved,
gently breathing, clouds appearing
on the clear glass.

slightly frustrated, unnerved by your
pale, drowning expression
i can't leave you like this.

rough fists banging against the smooth
my face falls
i need you to see me.

people are staring
but don't you see? i don't care
its just you and me.

finally, softly, i murmur your name.
your eyelids flicker, lips part slightly
then the train moves away

i am left standing
head remains searching for your gaze
a recognition
like you know that i'm still here.

painting with feathers.

let me know when my world collapses
i'm just painting with feathers
flying through a world
full of colour and charm
behind me lies a trail
of purple chairs, blue moons
pink feet, red towels
yellow coats, green dresses
orange kisses, black cats
painting with feathers
flying on a neon breeze
let me know when my world collapses
don't burn my copper chains, please.

no reason.

i'm tired.
people ask me what's wrong; it bounces off.
do i need to say?
can't you see it in my hollow eyes
hear it in my breaking voice?
i'm sure you know it more than i do.

i cannot answer, for words fail.
chest is heavy, air is thick.
give me the words, speak my mind.
i know this is too much to ask, but
is it more or less than the price
of a shoulder to lean on or
a steady embrace?

one hand after the other,
grasping onto crumbling dirt
slipping through my weak, broken fingers
as i struggle to climb up the side of the molehill.
i am neither falling nor rising.
both seem better options than hanging
in a comatosed state of equilibrium
waiting for something.

"imagination is the power to collect red roses in winter."