I once said
I’ll never get used to this ‘leaving’ business.
I meant it
I don’t think I’ll get used to things ending.
But it’s inevitable
And I guess that’s sad
But I’ve learned to cope with endings now.
It’s never easy
Still isn’t now
And I know it’ll never become any easier.
But I let myself sit through it
Because it’s the only way
And I always trust I’m okay in the end.
In the ‘end’?
I guess that’s one ending I can always rely on.
If there’s nothing else in this world I can trust
I trust in my ability to be okay
In the end.


And we must remember
After an ending, there is another story
Ready to begin.

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Have I Left Yet?

Try to leave but I keep hitting walls,
In this never-ending room.
I keep walking but I can’t find the door,
And my steps don’t add up at all.

Feels like I’ve walked miles.
Feels like so much has changed.
I thought I was done with this place now.
I didn’t expect it,
I didn’t expect to feel this much.
Always seem to learn something new somehow.

Every time I think I’ve left,
Something creeps up to say that’s not true,
But I’m a little bit further than I was before,
I can tell from the difference in view.

This room’s the same one as always,
And yet, to me, it looks so different,
Is it the room or is it me that has changed?
I think I’ve outgrown this,
I’ve overstayed,
Can anyone help me find the exit?

I love this place, I really do,
But I think my time here is up,
I want to start something entirely new,
I need to restore colour in this monochrome hue.

Am I imagining it,
A rope that tethers me,
Pulling me back every time I pull away,
But I’ll keep pulling and pulling,
Attempt to break out of this,
Because I’m not sure how long I can stay.

I’ll miss the place, I already do,
A part of me wishes to stay,
But I feel like doing so will stifle me,
And I believe that isn’t okay.

So many times,
I thought I’d left already,
But every so often I wake up and see,
I haven’t quite left yet,
I’m still in this same place,
Am I ever going to leave?

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Is anything ever more than just coincidence?

Connecting dots and seeing patterns,
Hidden meaning behind everything that happens,
Separate entities with a strange kind of link,
Believing things aren’t what we think.

Seeing dots and making up patterns,
Maybe there is no reason something has happened,
Separate entities but it needs no analysis,
Side by side but that’s all it is.

Joining dots to form our own patterns,
We take our own lessons from things that happen,
Separate entities we can choose to take or leave,
Both or neither, I guess that’s up to me.

Maybe coincidence isn’t the question we should ask,
A better question is what can I take away from this task?

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A Day In Summer

There is a day this Summer,
That has motivated me for two years,
It actually frightens me a little,
To know it could soon be here.

The day has simultaneously liberated me,
But also scared me incessantly,
I’m lucky it didn’t push me the other way,
And make me give up completely.

It’s an usually powerful motivator,
To push myself right over the line,
It’s the reason I chose to do all the things I’ve done,
Experienced everything that shaped my mind.

Whenever an opportunity appeared,
Or an interesting challenge arose,
I reminded myself of this day in Summer,
And that just spurred me on to go.

It was only a passing thought,
One that I thought might go away,
But there it is in the back of mind,
Almost every single day.

In honesty, the day is hypothetical,
It may well not really happen,
But the fact it’s spurred me for this long,
Then it doesn’t really matter.

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It might or it might not.
It could or it won’t.
It should but will it?
Say it or don’t.
Out of our hands.
Nothing left to do but wait.
Don’t dwell too long.
Just do what you can while you wait.

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A single leaf
Drifting without purpose
But even without purpose
This leaf visits so many faraway places
Away from its home tree
Away from the familiar branch
Across the pond
Into the sky
Towards the clouds
Landing on the ground
Encountering many other leaves
Dipping into the earth
Before catching another gust
As it flies away aimlessly again
Is this the life of a leaf?
To forever drift without meaning?
Or is the true meaning of the leaf
To always continue wandering
For what better purpose is there
Than to continuously live with wonder?
Could that be our meaning?

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Unspoken Conversations

Dialogues running through my head,
Deep words and odd topics,
Hilarious to mystifying,
Mildly amusing to beyond this reality,
Grass blades to the depths of the universe
Wonderous joy to streaming tears,
So many thoughts and ideas
So many unsaid things
So difficult to contain
Never leaving the confines of this mind.
They manifest on paper.
They manifest in art.
They manifest in writing.
Perhaps they even manifest in other conversations.
Same meaning behind different words.
Sometimes obvious but often abstract.
So many things I’ve heard myself say
But only in my mind
Only for me to ever know.

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