I need you to do me a favour
and break my heart please.
I am stepping out into this world,
and I need to know how it feels
to bring down these well-built walls,
to be soft, tender, vulnerable,
naked yet not hiding,
to give someone the power
to crush you and then watch
as they do.
Because the world breeds heartbreak
and I need to know.
I would rather step in broken
than go whole and well,
hopeful and wanting
only to return a shell
of dashed hopes and disenchantment.
I don’t want to see you as the sum of the numbers that make up your life.
The likes on your selfies, the number of followers you have on Instagram,
how many girls you’ve kissed
or the number of times you’ve held a cigarette between your lips.
I want to know you for all the parts of you that don’t make sense,
for the mess of thoughts you are before the ink bleeds from your pen.
I want to hear all the things you hide
when your friends ask you if everything’s alright.
I want to touch that mark on your skin you got
one day when you thought you weren’t enough.
I want to feel the words she tattooed on your wayward heart
before she upped and left you in parts.
I don’t want you to strut your stats
(5o likes for a photo of your feet in blue waters)
and think that I care for your numbers.
I don’t care; I’ve never been good at maths.
No, I want to see that beautiful mess of a soul,
and lose myself in all the mysteries it holds.
You toss and turn the night away,
as if hoping that the movement will
cause all that’s wrong inside,
to finally fall back into place.
You’re restless, breathless and hopeless.
And I want to say: “You don’t have to be.”
Because it is when disassembling the pieces of a Lego house
that you have enough parts to create a bigger one.
Everything doesn’t have to be in place all the time,
else it means that things have never moved,
that they have never changed.
But you, you want to evolve.
You want to grow.
You want to be a better you.
So embrace the messiness.
Make out with the idea that you’re a work-in-progress.
We all are.
It’s just that some of us are building foundations,
and others are redoing the paint.
But even then, you never know when
you’ll want to knock the whole thing down
and start all over again.
It is silent and lonely.
He stands, a solitary figure in the darkness.
He wants to take a step forward,
but before him the road diverges into different paths.
He cannot see where they lead,
does not know how far along they go.
So because he is afraid,
he does not move.
He stays at this crossroads,
because this is safe.
This is better than the unknown.
But sometimes, as he watches another lone soul
walk down one of these paths,
he wonders how long he will be there for.
Today…is a lazy day,
and gravity has made it a point to keep me in bed.
From the open window, the sky-blue curtains flutter,
and the clouds seem too comfortable to want to move,
even if they have to.
The sun is still stretching, yawning at the new day.
Today, I don’t want to fight.
I can’t think of demons and darkness;
I’m too busy doing nothing.
Too busy remembering the summer
from that day I flew a kite,
or that summer, one day at the beach,
floating effortlessly on top of the rolling waves,
thinking about one day in the distant future.
Maybe that day is now.
I’m not happy all the time.
But today, I am.
And it would be a damn shame to ruin it by moving.
So I snuggle deeper into the fluffiness of my blanket,
and fall back happily into Nature’s pace.