Writing

My tears taste of memories,

slipping from my eyes,

replaying on my cheeks,

leaving a trail of our past on my lips,

tasting of the bitter-sweet moments of us,

and finally, 

silently, 

I don't think you're a waste of space,

I'll give you my room and my pillow

As long as you make the bed afterwards,

And close the windows to keep the rain out. 

I don't think your not enough,

they’ve seen me in passing

without even realising

that hope is what makes me

able to stand underneath the californian sun

hope lets me feel

the ground beneath our feet

the breeze against my cheek

my hair falls like clumps of tears

ready to be set free,

like chains held over my head.

i tied my hair into knots

of familial expectations,

the knot’s been untied,

and the cage has opened

I wish I could be you.

Running to your room

Plugging your ears

Whenever there's a scary part of a movie

And coming back out in time

To see the happy ending -

Closing your eyes

Covering your face

This man

With a family who loves him

But can't help him

Because he needs to help himself first

This man

Drunk on hatred for himself

For this world

"Hopeless", they all say

With their eyes