I miss you more than you know
Thoughts meander to and fro
And I’m thinking of you more than I should
I wonder, if you weren’t gone, if I would.
I feel your absence more than I ought
Look back for blurry images that I forgot
And I find myself wondering, even though,
We’re far apart — do you know?
How I miss you, how I miss you so
As thoughts meander to and fro.
For Currer and Acton.
Thus it is to be man:
to desire in life some greater plan,
to be afflicted by that single want,
for not the birds, nor the trees,
are discontent to simply be,
but man alone it seems to haunt,
that little thought: is there a purpose for me?
it rained and sunned that day.
And this was to seal my fate forever: Continue reading
The fingers wander back over the familiar keys
as I finger through these old melodies
rediscover parts of myself,
meander through all those lives I’ve lived. Continue reading
They tell you to just be yourself, that everybody else is already taken. As if you have been out shopping all day, strolling past empty aisles full of empty shelves, searching for the personality you can wear as your costume for the day. Until you finally realise that they’ve sold out of costumes long ago and it looks like you’ll have to go naked after all.
Today I am Possibility.
Infinitely allowed, infinitely able to grow and stretch and morph into absolutely anything—
So says the counselor.
I am destined to the hand of glorious uncertainty.
I’ve heard it before, but today I can feel it.
Today I’m not scared. Continue reading