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The space between us stretches over countries, and oceans. The distance teases me, by saying we will never be together. I hate it, and pretend not to...

About a friend

About a friend of mine who died of cancer aged 16

Darkness

The moons milky light pierces through the blinds at my window, And I sigh, Thinking how lucky I am to be here with you. Your naked chest moves slowly...

A glass, dropped

A metaphor for my mental illness (depression)

CHAT WITH A HEAD

"Why haven't you been at school, Since I don't remember when?" "I've been having some problems." "Like what?" "Like, horrible men."

let not our love expire

is true love possible?
Cherry

New Year

The last of the stories featuring the penguin.

The Moon Talked to Me

Trying to understand what is happening to a loved one with a mental illness

Hearing Burns

Ayrshire's early childhood days

Girl across the Room

There sits a girl across the room so radiant and bright, That she holds my gaze as long as she's in sight. She sits across the room so full of life, That with every thought of her there's this feeling of strife. I look again at what she's wearing. She looks beautiful in black, beautiful in white. She's beautiful in the day, beautiful at night. I can hear her laugh from across the room. I silently laugh with her, hoping she can hear me. But it's not always laughter for me or her. She tries not to show when she cries, But as a tear or two leave her warm green eyes, I can't help but to let out an uncertain sigh. And wonder what could make her cry, But I already know. How couldn't I? She's the girl across the room. There are times when she sings quietly to herself. I stop and listen, something tells me she's the one. I go on listening long after she's done. For a chance that maybe she'll say something. Can I get her coffee? One lump of sugar not two. What is it that pulls me to you? Then every once and a while, she turns her head and our eyes meet. I smile at her, she smiles back too. She's so sweet. And in that moment, the room doesn't seem so big anymore. There's no one here but us. I can almost feel her. There's so much I want to say. But then she begins to turn back her head, "No, Wait." It's too late, She's already talking to the man across the room.

abstruse poetry

Afternoon Days A sallow sensibility Soft afternoon days Sun-short Diffuse and d?tente Rumbled contracts - with myself A weary imperative Ash in the...

Venus

if i were to love the Goddess of Love, Venus

The Sign

There is a pillar of fire outside my window.

A crush

The way it feels to have a crush on somebody who doesn't reciprocate...

First memories

Riley's first memories of his mother, his first home, and moving away.

Turnaround

The most romantic

Isolationism

Rainclouds burst like soapsuds, the trees bud and bud again, imaginary ash falls from the sky (which is not blue). The isolationists hold a party...

Mirage

A strange dream

Snowdance

Historical Romance set in Montana.

last man standing

he was staying indoors more and more all his mates seemed to have disappeared into a world of quiet domesticity in which he lived too but sometimes...

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