Map

A mess of lines,

a disguise a mask of star maps

to planetary release,

I watch you breathe your eyes closed,

forming words to bite back, attack

softly, a gentle word of being alone.

I find you un-believable,

Incomprehensible marvel.

You will not steal without asking first.

So we are not on an edge,

we feel with hands atop hand.

Searching a minefield

or ocean.

The forceful hush,

the heavy feather.

The iron grace.

The force of eyes so full,

so star-glazed, animal curiosity.

Such smooth grace,

once rough around edges.

Stories untold by firelight,

eyes give us all

we asked for.

I do not understand your dispersal,

but I, timid, accept.

Ode

My eyes do not deserve the stars,

and the freckles in yours.

Maybe by the moonlight security would seem

blissful, but I fear I wait.

For something not worth wait,

a shadow of a blade of grass,

or a leaf.

I miss you still, whether recommended or no.

Controlling seems futile

when love is the night sky.

I may wait to some degree,

but I enjoy the journey and the faces of those

who teach without recognition of doing so.

Those who I love each piece of

and their reflection of our planet I hold in high regard.

For they are of the earth

as you are,

and this keeps oceans at my fingertips,

futility refuted.

I close a sanctuary around you

you who are of the stars

and moon-dust,

particularly particled.

You whose atoms vibrate inside fingertips

on skin

A pulse, intangible and weakening.

All who are here radiate to your eyes,

and your hand is a feather in mine.

Pulse

The night-hour lingers like

your invisible breath

ocean-stars away.

My hands are too small to hold on,

and this I find relief within

as for once I do not control

confirm coincidence,

and then will I believe you are truthful

and not fabrication.

No more perfect is the sky than

oceans of you.

I find peace in sharing a place to stand with you,

and yet departure does not sadden.

For difference comes with denial,

and the secret you have become in my pulse.

I see I falter yet when I stray

you shine, reminder of home.

Still one more, one must let me believe

that I am right for once

And not illusioned.

For the human mind can beckon greed

'til a single being remains, cold.

I wish to feel a heart in time with the closing of my eyelids

a hand to push back the discord

and welcome the planet.

Synapses

Breathing in time with mine

would welcome sleep.

Sanctuary of warmth.

Blink, touch, close.

I feel you underneath my fingertips

you are here.

Though far.

I do not mind for you are still.

Solidity is welcomed but solace is fine.

More than bearable, I long for a reality

But understand my need to be alone.

Because I am not alone,

one touch holds a thousand yous

and my eyes believe you when I sleep.

Your atoms are my synapses

and still linger in the air,

frozen constellations of

freckles upon my skin.

I will carry you.

The tip of my tongue

Do not rush, time.

I understand the upside-down.

Your hands point to

confirm, relearn.

I let you synchronize

the signs for us.

I refuse to wait,

commands are not of substance

when they repeat.

I have learned and avoid relearning.

Moons settle and I almost lose,

you are the tip of my tongue

but a secret I keep

gracious on my heart.

The three times I fought

with a star that is a sun

for you

Everyone watches their own.

I have things I can keep,

for were I to tell

no one would listen like I

heard you.

From treasure to a thought,

a fancy.

A knowing unknowingly wrong,

I hold you underneath;

tip of my tongue.

The grace, the great grace, the wonder.

A word on love, love that's unreciprocated and trying to figure out what's actually missing.

Where did this delusion come from that we need another person to complete us?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot as of late, looking back at how I was and how I was so sad and lonely (apparently) that I decided maybe another person could make it all better.

The way I see it at the moment, a lot of us have this space inside us that we feel doesn’t fill up with anything. It’s like a gaping whole and we’re trying to find whatever we can to cram into it. The whole ‘something is missing’ schpiel.

Now, I have a tendency to love people. I like people a lot, which often leads to me not being sure whether I like them romantically or not. I think this is because they show me a vulnerable side and I suddenly understand that they’re an actual human being, and this opening up to someone is something I think a lot of people naturally fall for, because they wish they could do it too, or that this person trusts them with something that’s clearly important to them. I know I fall for it.

And again it’s trying to fill that gap. It’s like somehow that makes me feel worthwhile, which doesn’t feel like the right attitude at all.

OK I think I’m meshing a few ideas I’ve been throwing around recently together, and I’m sorry ‘cause this may be a long post. Maybe someone will read it, maybe not, but I needed to write it.

So, back to romantic love completing people (apparently). So, I’ve gone through it and I’m watching friends go through it; somehow I’m not happy with who I am (even though I’m the only me in the world) and I think someone else will make me better.

I think I’m coming out the other side of this situation, but I still catch myself pining sometimes because, well, old habits die hard or something. But I’m working on it.

It’s just the ‘it’s the end of the world because this person doesn’t *society’s definition of love* me’.
I see it everywhere all the time and it makes me so sad, because I know how awful it feels. And I know it’s fixable. Sure, it’s not fixable without quite a lot of hard work and out of comfort zone situations, but it’s still fixable.

Because whether or not someone ‘loves’ you back you have really really appreciated who someone is. Which is a good thing.

But there are a lot of people around you. Always.

And every single one is just as deserving of your attention as the person you love.

And that’s the thing I’ve been realizing; as long as you’re only really paying attention to one person, you aren’t going to be happy. Whether it’s yourself or a guy/girl.

Love is not about being completed by someone else. Because it shouldn’t be a substitute for you loving who you are, and a substitute for the missing piece you feel like you have.

Love is meeting someone who cares about you, but cares about everyone else too.
And gives everyone their time, not just you, and someone who teaches you to do the same.

Because every human being on the planet is worthy of your time and is amazing.

Just like the person you’re giving all your attention to.

Maths and vegetables 404

Here we go, a maths question for you!
Use vegetables and fruit to make minus 2.

OK, I've got it, here's what to do.
First subtract banana from two, then add 7 to your favourite fruit.

There, Voila! The answer is... Wrong?
Let's try this again subtracting from 1.

1 minus pear makes potato, wait, what?
I thought it made apple, tomato and broth.

Oh, wait, by broth I meant pear,
that plus 2 minus cauliflower squared.

Oh boy, someone help get me out of this mess!
I can't calculate 3 minus cress.

This whole thing is dumb,
how could it make sense?

And to think I tried to work it out in my head.

Pass me some paper, hand me a pen.
Now this'll be easy, long division always ends!

Cabbage plus two, add rhubarb and peas, please
give me a minute, to divide it by 3.

Subtract it from mango,
of course, this makes sense!

Time to carry it through to the end.


How has this taken me more than a day?
Surely it's easy, I'm an orange away!

5 more hours are history,
the long division is more than a mystery.

154 pages strong, I long, for division that's short.
But I still have to finish this problem, of course!

But wait, what's this? The end at long last?
A cucumber away, could I add on some grass?

Is it possible, that I made a mistake?
I don't care anymore, surely it is too late when you
hit the page number 404.

I hate this!
This question is dumb! I rip up the pages one by one,
and throw them in the fire while writing this song.

Can't believe I bothered,
what a waste of my time.
I go to the kitchen and make up a line

Of the fruit and veg I happen to own.
I notice, of course, it must be a lime!

We all know a lime times 9 equals three smaller limes!

So I gather my paper,
Pick up my pen.

Start back on the madness all over again.

---------------------

I was walking home from work the other day and thought back to my maths struggles in school (I wasn't bad at Maths at all, I mean, I did Additional Maths, but it often resulted in drenching my Maths homework in tears), and the confusion at problems involving fruit and vegetables.

So...Yeah, this was born. it was so fun to write but I'm not sure anymore.

Fire

Stealing rhymes from other peoples lines,

Look at you.
You're a mess but here I digress.

I see you as nothing less,
Maybe I'm a little bit hopeless
But I need to rest.

Everything you said to me bounces 'round my head
And will 'til I'm dead,
I can't help a sense of ever growing dread of losing you
To all the rest of the mess.

The powers of the earth are nothing here,
Look at the rising and falling of my chest,
Here we'll rest
Until the darkness gets the best
of us and is all we see as we get dressed
In this mess.

Look at us,
We're falling apart as we lose our hearts
To people who don't give a damn about whether
We win or we lose from the finish to the start.

And this hope is just a dream
Waiting for us to reach out and grab it but
When we miss it we fall into a dark abyss
Of nothingness and everything we miss.

The silent glances and open language we use with
Our bodies our minds and our hearts as we synchronize ourselves with surroundings
As our eyes turn to shattered glass and fabric frayed at the edges.

The dance of colour and lies we make
While we fake love and break this wake
Created by waves where we can't wait to take what we need
To live awake and still dreaming while we drown in love-lakes.

We aren't crying out for the help we get
But in our eyes we give away the lies we create to hide away
From the great gate for us to use to access the reward for our wait

And then people poke knives in our skin and break the surface
So thin that we thought was thick built up of defenses and walls of brick
Defense mechanisms akin to sharp pins and needles but why couldn't someone
Break sharp surfaces with the same tools used to create your skin-guards,
Sometimes you have to let them in so they see they don't want to win the trust
Of a person so thin you can see through their lies to where they begin.

And who cares if you let them in because they're the ones who'll lose their minds
To all the thin lines leading to yours and their demise and they'll be blinded by

The way your heart shines at the end of maps devised so no one can find their ends and their lines until you prize them away from your unkind lies into the twists and turns of your mind and the way you intertwine the lies with hope and faith so no one can see

That you're just a landmine, waiting to be blown up by a person who cares too much
To be tricked into thinking you're just a line of lies
And sees the essence of a being so fine it will blow their mind into thousands of shining and flawlessly designed combined vines of a life so divine

They don't know why the lines of lies you hide inside made them so scared before as they see your essence divided into ties of sublime crimes that make their heartbeat increase two-fold at the sight of diamonds in your shining eyes.

You write yourself into little pockets of fully-booked darkness,
Fully-booked by those actually in need of a full-on helping hand for where they stand
After being given the command to hold out their hand and get it smacked down onto land
Where they thought they'd be able to stand but where they've actually been banned by
The people who think they need a hand to be pulled up so they can stand
Taller than the rest of those lying on the ground surrounded by a sound so sad
It drives people mad as they drive their hand into the sand as black as an ocean
trying to expand.

I'm not trying to say you don't need a helping hand, I understand where you stand
But get on your own two feet sometimes because we all feel bad and like we've been had
sometimes, when life throws us away to make us feel better some other day.
I mean, I'm here if you need it, that damn helping hand
But don't expect me to be here if it's her you demand,
You're too late and she's lost in some strange distant land
Where you don't exist, and she knows where she stands.

Yeah, she's heavily broken and needs helping up
sometimes, when the world feels like her own demise.
You can make her feel better, but I don't think for long,
although you're amazing you just aren't her song,

She's already far off and walking into someone else's song-filled life,
Brimmed with her own expectation, but don't feel too bad if she uses flirtation
To get some other guy following her steady, ready to be crushed in the palm of her hand
When she remembers she can't stand to be under someone else's command.

So don't get mad, just leave her and go because she has her own life and her own lovely show,
Just like you said, you gotta go with the flow although sometimes with the flow isn't where you want to go.
The flow's leading you outwards, away from her glow and don't get mad when she tells you to go.

And I know, this whole thing is hard, like walking on small sharp-cut glass shards
that tug at your skin when you're walking towards her, and find their way in when you're being ignored by her.

Don't let it cut too deep this time because I feel the same, when I'm walking towards you and walking away,
And sometimes they're still there when I'm lying at night, poking my skin and picking a fight, reminding me that you're still not here by my side, and piercing ever further when I'm starting to cry.

But don't get mad when she tells you to go, I know it's hard but don't fight with the flow.

The fire catches onto your skin when you know that you just can't have her and have to let her go, and the fire it burns down into your being until you know there's no way you can win. But still you fight with the fire aglow, hoping that she still might love you or know that if she doesn't say anything you're ready to blow on up and shower fire on everyone below.

But I'm on fire, yeah I already am, and the fire doesn't burn 'cause I know where I stand, as the blaze takes over the sky all above, and the stars start to fall because of my love. And I make wishes on the stars I create, and make them fall like symbols of fate, because I know where I stand with my heart-rate tripled and my hope all over me creating ripples, and the fire all around me becomes so ornate that I start to believe that I just have to wait, for all of the stars to fall out of the sky, so I can stop making wishes and look in your eyes, and tell you I love you and set the whole world aflame so maybe you'd notice that I'm not playing a game, and maybe you'll see that we both are the same.

And as soon as I tell you, the fire will die and you'll no longer think this whole thing is a lie, and when you look up, to look at the stars, you'll see they're all gone and jump into my arms when you realize I used them all, to wish for our love. A love so strong it replaced the whole sky above, because of its beauty, and its strength, my love. A light so strong it became the stars for our night, and maybe, this one time, maybe I'm right. 

-------------

 I wrote this quite a while ago. More than a year ago I think, but man, I do not know where it came from. I like it quite a lot and it encouraged me to write more. 

Wish I could rap though.