My Prose

You are …

You are the books you read, the films you watch, the music you listen to, the people you meet, the dreams you have, the conversations you engage in. You are what you take from these. You are the sound of the ocean, a breath of fresh air, the brightest light and the darkest corner. You are a collective of every experience you have had in your life. You are every single day. So drown yourself in a sea of knowledge and existence. Let the words run through your veins and let the colours fill your mind.

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So Why Hope?

Love has a bad reputation for breaking hearts and causing pain, when it isn’t love that is the culprit. Love with it’s euphoric joy cannot be blamed for the pain caused by devastation.

Love, has a bad reputation for breaking hearts and causing pain. When it isn’t Love.

It isn’t Love.

Loves does not hurt.
Love does not blind.
Love does not deceive.

Love, in it’s infinite purity takes the fall – for Hope.

It’s Hope that hurts.
Hurt that blinds.
Hope that deceives.

Because hand-in-hand with Hope comes Disappointment. Disappointment is the shadow that never leaves Hope’s side. Disappointment is omnipresent. But imperceptible.

And so we Hope.

Carelessly
Haphazardly
Irresponsibly.
We Hope.

We Hope oblivious to Disappointment. Until Disappointment makes her presence known. Until Disappointment brings hurt and pain and tears. And the we blame Love. We blame Love for the hurt and pain and tears. But it isn’t the fault of Love.

All blame should be laid at the feet of Hope. It isn’t Love that breaks hearts, it’s Hope.

Hope breaks hearts.


You’d Think I’d Have Learnt My Lesson From Sinatra

On the couch, in the dark. The light from the television shows me the outline of your hand engulfing mine.

I think I love you.

Moulded into your side, up close, I can feel your stubbled chin on my forehead & the faint scent of your cologne makes me hazy as I try to breathe calmly.

I think I love you.

I close my eyes and lay my head on your chest. To feel your heartbeat on my cheek; slow and steady; so different from my own that pounds in unison with the fluttering of the butterfly wings in my stomach.

Intimacy.

I think I love you.

Contentment.

I think I love you.

Bliss.

I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I say, “I love you.”

Silence

You freeze.

Silence.

I hold my breath

As the silence grows, my heart falls. I feel you draw away. Not physically. But I feel you draw away.

I close my eyes, I apologize. “No worries” you say, but the damage is done. What have I done? Our fleeting connection, in pieces on the floor, alongside my fallen heart.

“Coffee?” you ask. You’ve drawn away, now you walk away, stomping on the shattered pieces of what was, just moments ago, “Us”, stomping on my heart.

I think I love you
I think I love you
You’ve gone & I whisper “I love you.”
And my heart begs from the floor “Please, please love me too.”