Martians, Demons and Fools Like Me

I met a girl when it was partially cloudy. She was beautiful. We did everything you’d only dream of. I stayed up at night to wait for a new day with her. When we were together we were alone, together. and though clouds painted the world grey, it only emphasised her vibrancy. We loved with vendetta against unhappiness and remorse. I guess eventually that wasn’t enough, because happiness left her eyes as clouds would leave the sky and soon I left her. I met a girl when it was sunny. She was bright, and fun, and full of opinions. It wasn’t love, but it was a close second. We spent the better part of my first summer together, I’d visit her every day. She never talked as much as she’d have liked to, we said more in bed than we did out. A minute with her was never a minute wasted, so those minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days and days turned to weeks until I had to leave. and I guess I was gone for too long because when I returned she’d already found her sky. That summe...

When that wild thought occurs again Everything around you seem mundane The heart twangs like a giant elastic band And exhaustion pushes you to leave this land Close your eyes and dream of falls Accept the change and blink it off When an opportunity slips away once more You feel your wings cut before you could soar You spot your dreams just crumble down You reach the unwanted station of breakdown Close your eyes and hustle sans scoff Strive in serenity and blink it off When you have it all broken and in a mess Luck drove up the wall and nothing is blessed Perception is an abyss of despair and thorns Heart is ablaze and your soul has storms Close your eyes and let the stars take off shine is on its way waiting for you to blink it all off

When I was young, my mom, like most moms in the world used to tell me to stay away from bad people. And, like most moms in the world, almost everyone was a bad person for her gullible, innocent, and saintly child.  It turned out to be more difficult, than I had assumed. The same kid that used to help me with homework was the one who cheated in exams. The girl who used to make drawings for my friend made faces at me.  It left a very profound lesson for me. There is no good or bad person in the world. There are only people who are good for you, or people who are bad for you.  There are people, good for you, who are joking along about anyone or anything, but find the time to sit down with you in the corridor on a cold night, right before an important event, to advice you with all their wisdom, to help you gather your strengths as your eyes start to weep. And then there are people who stayed with you nights and days, & chose to abandon you, on those very cold ni...

they say that every day the universe expands and we discover certain things that we don't understand well dark matter ain't the only mystery at hand i'm wondering how i got a girl like you to say that i'm her man it's a statistical anomaly but girl you got me gravity is pulling me to your heavenly body no astronomical phenomenon could ever stop me you've got a smile that every star in the galaxy copy the constellations couldn't make as beautiful a pattern the conversations every night i ring you up like Saturn the telescopes tell us folks that you're the coolest view a supernova scooting over to make room for you cause you eclipse every wonder of the cosmosis it's almost unfair to them but you're the one i want most it's a miracle that Galileo never found you if he did he'd say the universe revolved around you

I've spent a large part of a short adulthood wishing I was a kid again. Since 18 I've wanted to be 12 because life was better then. I remember summers feeling warm not just outside, but how I felt inside. I felt warmth, and love felt like something to fall helplessly in and everyday demanded a new adventure because we had all the time in the world. And that time is what I miss most. Not because I've aged, but because in ageing, time slips out of your hands. You don't do what you want, you do what you have to. You schedule your freedom. Your happiness is put off until weekends. You make more friends out of convenience than connection. Real connection. And real becomes something foreign to you. Real intentions, real love, real people, real everything. I dwell on the past because it's when I can remember life feeling authentic. I see people all around me and I wonder if they're happy, or if they're comfortable. Have they settled? What I want out of li...

There’s a lot I don’t know. For instance, I never know what I want to order before I go eat. Even though I always end up getting what I got the last time. I know what I want out of life but I’m not entirely sure how I’ll get there. I didn’t know I had anxiety until last year, and honestly I didn’t know there were words for a lot of the things I feel. I don’t know if I mean the things I say, or if I say them because they mean something to you. And I’m afraid you do the same when you speak to me. There’s a lot I’m not sure about, but what’s been bothering me most, is I’m not sure in who I am. I have an idea of things I like, things I don’t like. The kind of people I enjoy being around, and I have a pretty good idea of how people view me. But there’s this voice in my head. It's almost another person but still me. It causes most of my doubt. It asks questions like, “Are you doing this because you’re a good person? Or because you’ll be praised for being a good person?” And that qu...

I get comfortable very easily. Sometimes too soon. I hate facades and I've never held up a shield, so I find it hard to restrain the entirety of who I am. I've realised this doesn't always work out in my favour. Because when you're comfortable you share something closer to the rawest version of yourself and this makes it harder for others to uphold their personal images of you.  Subconsciously I beg to question do you enjoy me? Or do you enjoy your idealised version of me? Are we here together? Or am i playing a part in the script you are writing in your head. I've never been a good actor. I smile too much and it seems you only appreciated me being myself when it coincides with who you think I am. I seem to step out of my character when I step out of my shell. I'm not a portrait or a painting. I'm a person.  I have bad angles and even worse days sometimes. I don't expect you to be happy with every part of me.  And I hope you're prepared to ...

No girl was beautiful to everyone, except herself. And when I tell her she's perfect, she insists that she's not, so I insist that she is. I tell her if I could change one thing about you, next to nothing, I would change your eyes. Exchange them for mine, so you could see what I see when I see you. She tells me, she knows she's beautiful but she doesn't feel like it. But I don't want to make her feel that way. Make her love herself in the same way she loves pizza or the wild beaches, so I insist that she is.  I tell her, when I look at you I see poetry. The kind that moves you and keeps you grounded at the same time. The kind I'd like to wake up next to in the morning. When I tell you you're perfect, don't tell me you're not, because you've seen yourself every day of your life. You're used to this. But this is new for me. Because every time I see you I find something new to adore. To remind me of me. Because every time I listen to you I f...