i watch the raindrops
fill up the puddles
puddles where the birds bathe
to them, the world is still turning
turning, with no intention to stop

caged like a bug under a rock
feeling like we’re living by a broken clock
in these quiet times I think of you
writing little rhymes, like you used to do

your spirit lives in the whistle of the birds
your memory clings onto the petal of a flower
remembering you as i am greeted by the april shower

we paint our faces
stick scars to our skin
laughter dances around the room
nerves make an appearance from within

smoke machine switches on
smoke creeps around our ankles
music deafening us
lights blinding my friends

no sight
no hearing
no awareness
of the twists and turns this night takes

she’s bleeding tonight
it’s noticed but is unimportant
she resembles a statue
enduring the raid of her body

in her peripheral is the door
fleeing to an exit is not a choice
observing the intrusion  
aching for conclusion

surveyed until she is out of sight
silenced until alone
but at this point
she has turned to stone

words are tucked inside
safe from vulnerability
all she can release
are cries
cries which start to cease

and with arms wrapped around her
she will never be the same
only a shell of a person
trying not to accept the blame

what enchants me the most
is how you make me feel at home
even if home isn't in sight

what astounds me more
is how you make me feel safe
even if danger is lurking round the corner

but

what mesmerises me just a little bit more
is how when you are by my side
everything is complete
and we
are magnetised