Symphonies

Symphonies. What is a song without its writer? A dance without the music? What is a soul without its truth? What can a symphony be if not beauty, grace, spirit? What can a symphony be without you? You have symphonies in you, kid. You have the B-flats and the E-sharps that many dream of knowing.…

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Panic attacks

I splutter, my body shakes and it feels worthless. They are not as bad as other people's but every little thing matters. It's not as if I can't breathe its just that I can't not cry. I want to succeed, I have the will, the motivation, the work ethic, but I don't feel like I…

All about London.

The bustle of busy people fills your ears. Your head space. But what a wonderful head space to be in. The rush of business is one virtue of this big city- and it's a big city for a reason; so many people flock to London to travel, to browse the small corner bookshops, to taste the…

The train.

A poem.   She sits on a train, Head against the window, Chest against the wall, Vibrations filling all of her body.   Thoughts caressing all of her, whispering that she is a sweet nothing.   Blurred fragments of it all stretch themselves, Bending backwards to isolate her, They stare at her whilst she stares…

How would the cows feel?

An in depth look at their thoughts and feelings... What would the cows think if they saw all of that left over milk in your cereal bowl? As it will stand neglected, abandoned, and lonely. What might they say to you if they understood that you only did it for your own selfish reasons? After…

Poetry for the heart

A Poem.   As a scrawl of words to a writers best work, you are my everything.   As the endless drafts to seed the art, you cling to me, we grow together.   Sewn into me, bound to me, as a writers pen to his hand.   And then like the destruction of a…

365 days

A poem.   It bites me, mocks me,  The winter hits my heels as it runs to catch up with me  But slow and steady wins the race,   So I take it steady,  I tell the winter that I love you,  Nothing can keep me from you, not the cold.    I watch as the…

Tremble

I've always been uncertain about myself. It's the wonder at life and what created us, and it's the whispering question in the back of my mind constantly doubting if I'm good enough for our 'creator'. And, if there is no creator, if I'm good enough. It's not diffidence, definitely not. It's not even really anything…

Silent Majority

This isn't what you think it is. The silent majority; a a metaphor, I imagine that this could be the things that your mind screams but neither your body nor your mouth says. Deep inside I am deeply terrified, the fear is a flaking, dank wallpaper with an unforgiving, displeasing grip on the wall. But that…