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Nothing More Than A Scar

Each day I wake and feel a sadness, It cuts me gently, yet it stings like a mourning. I know time has passed, but nothing is the same, Ever since you said goodbye, my chest has felt desolate. It’s not your fault, I know it’s my own, But I hate sleeping at night, just to wake to my own heartbeat. Everything sends an echo through my hearts, and it’s then when I can hear the tears calling me. Raise me up, so I may fall, At least, maybe, then I… Read more Nothing More Than A Scar

Ew, you sponge off the government?

Seriously, I’m sick of hearing that question. To those of you who haven’t read my previous posts: I’m currently receiving Universal Credit, which, to some people, means I’m stealing your hard-earned money. Trust me, I feel physically sick at the thought of it. Really, I do. I’m the kind of person that has to be occupied. There’s rarely any moment in most days where I don’t want to be doing something. Even writing this blog-post allows me to feel somewhat productive. I despise sitting around, strolling through the internet doing… Read more Ew, you sponge off the government?

Final Hour

I’ll never deny my final fate, Aren’t we all destined to sleep? I may never wake, but you will still hear me, Through the ears of your minds memories. My final thoughts will be of my past, For I know that life was bliss and fruitful. In my final hour, I’ll whisper your name, Maybe then I can leave gently.


I recall those moments when it was just you and I, Hiding under the moonlight as our feet moved to the silence. With your eyes on mine, and your feet slowly following, I ignore the whispers of the unwanted gazers. The sound of our footsteps make up for the lack of music, Yet we both know we don’t need any. The scratching gravel moves to our shoes, As the moonlight covers our bodies. That was your time, your glistening in the night, That, was your moonlight.

The Wrong Track

Sitting here, I think of nothing. When I gaze in the mirror, it’s nothing more than a blank expression. Do you have those moments when you don’t know who you are? Do you have times of complete obscurity? I can feel my skin, but it doesn’t feel right, It feels like a shell of someone else. Perhaps I’m mad, but I am still me, That’s what I hope in this world of delusion. I’m forced to live a life of taxing, I’m forced to suppress my expressive side. I’m taken… Read more The Wrong Track

A Blank Page

The purity of a heart can be corroded with rage, When one gazes upon the wrong turn of a page. The words written may be painful to see, Perhaps that page was even written by me. We all expect a dream to drift by soon, It’s what we dwell on under the light of the moon. The next page is yours, as it’s blank and new, So remember this blessing, the free life that was gifted to you.