The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth


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May 27th / (Heart)Break Down

I guess the part I’m scared of is 

The inevitable change;

When everything that once meant the world 

Crumbles like dust at our feet. 

What will we do,

When kisses that once inspired 

Soft sighs and butterflies,

Only flutter and fall

Like ashes from our lips?

What will we say,

When words that once bloomed

Between the spaces in the silence 

Wilt, wither and waste away  

In the dryness of closed mouths?

I don’t want your name to become 

A sour taste on my tongue,

I don’t want the melody of your voice 

To switch to a mourning hum;

But my fear is one morning I’ll wake up 

And all my feelings will have dispersed- 

Or worse, lying sleepless in twilight

I’ll know you stopped loving me first. 


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Blessing Counting

I used to face every problem that came my way with passive pessimism; I met minor issues with quiet complaints and grumbles, saw a world in grayscale with a slightly musty smell. Everything wasn’t great, but it wasn’t awful either. 

Now that I’m beginning to experience actual sadness, I’m seeing life in a different way. If I let each bout of melancholia drown me in its sea, or let myself be suffocated in sighs of depression, I could not consider myself alive. And so, while shutting myself alone in a room, cradling my cracked carcass of a heart in my arms and crying until I can feel no more tears come to greet my cheeks seems like the easier option when facing dark times, it is not what I do. 

I count my blessings now. 

For every scrap of sad news I hear, for every lurch of disappointment I feel, for every urge to break down that rocks my corpse I give myself a reason to stay standing. I tell myself to put a damn smile on my face and survive, because what’s the point in being anything other than happy? This world is so full of the bitter taste of loneliness and gloom already, so what harm would a little bit of hope do? Why on earth would I lock myself up in all of my doubts, depressions and disappointments when I could simply choose to be happy? Why should I continue complaining when I have so much to be thankful for? I’m alive, aren’t I?

This is how I survive now. And I urge anyone who feels trapped behind the dusty cobwebs of cynicism to try out optimism too. Because, let me tell you, the world looks a hell of a lot brighter in colour. 


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One Day

One day you’re going to wake up to an empty bed
And realise exactly what you’re missing.
In between the sheets will lie the soft scent and gentle laughter
Of a girl you fed lies to, a girl you led to her demise
All in the name of a love you knew was never true.
So I hope that laughter tugs at your chest,
And that scent wraps itself around your throat
And reminds you how beautiful she was, how wonderful she was
And how stupid you are for noticing too little too late.
One day you’re going to watch her walk straight past
And realise exactly what you just let go.
Cry out all you want- curse until your lips crack dry,
It was always going to end this way;
You let her slip between your slithering grasp
And she’s too far away to get back.