It is not like the stories.

It is not fire and brimstone

and burning flesh.

It is not cold, dank depths.

Endless darkness.

Endless terror.

It is not what you thought.

It is a warm room,

your favourite room.

You sit between all the ones you love,

touch their flesh

and they will touch back.

You can talk and laugh,

it is always light,

it is always warm

and you are never, ever tired.

It is not what you thought.

Time doesn’t move slowly,

or quickly,

or at all it seems.

You do not change.

Your lover never leaves.

Your mother always smiles.

But somewhere,

it could be years

or a few minutes

into that warmth,

somewhere you start to wonder.

It could be fast,

like blinking while the light changes.

It could be a like a stone hitting your back.

Or it could be like poison.

Slowly, so slowly you do not remember

when you first notice,

everyone begins to repeat themselves.

Not like playback, not like puppets,

but like a child who has not read past the first chapter

of a book you wrote.

And they are all agreeing with you,

all the time.

You may try to test this-

shout obscenities and curses-

but they will only smile.

It is not what you thought.

There is warmth here,

and you are never tired,

but those around you have no depth

and you cannot leave

or sleep

or hide.

A smile is a smile is a smile,

is now just lips pulled over teeth.

You may try slap it from their faces,

the faces you love,

but they will only laugh.

Finally, you are in a world

where everything is comfort and safety,

and a friend who always laughs,

and a lover who will never leave you,

and a mother who is always smiling

but are they happy?

Can it be love if they have no other option?

No option

no standard

no meaning.

It is not what you thought.

It is not hot iron,

burning flesh.

It is the ache of never knowing,

of endless doubt in those around you,

the ones you love most.

It is your fear,

and your love for them,

and the emptiness of their servitude.

It is not what you thought.

The room will always be warm,

they will always smile,

and you will spend forever wondering;

can it be real

can it be good

if it never ends?

#wetpetals

I love when I meet someone and their eyes radiate a story. 

Not just a story, but of a deeper ocean than one can even imagine. 

I love when the smile they present to me is one of genuine nature, a kindness that surpasses understanding. 

I love knowing people who by all measures are broken, and completely scarred. 

You move me, you motivate me, you inspire me. 

I love your souls, I love the way you get up time after time and walk gracefully among us.

You get up after each hit, as though life set out for you and you alone. And you only ask, what lesson did you have for me today? 

Your soul vibrations radiate power, penetrating us all with a soothing force of both peace and strength. 

I am you, you are me. 

Let's destroy the hands of time,

Slow it down,

Press rewind.

Let's forget about today,

Erase it all,

And start again.

Let's not dwell in misery,

Learn to smile,

And forgive.

Step inside, get away

but all I see,

naked shame.

vulnerable.

scared.

broken.

I am what I am ...

Burn it down and bleed it out

because nobody's listening.

I run away, by myself

waiting for the end.

I've given up and I am numb

looking for somewhere I belong,

a place for my head on roads untraveled

that make me hit the floor.

I'm lost in the echoes within a

castle of glass and shadows of the day

leave me crawling on hands and knees

from skin to bone until I faint

and there's nothing left me ....