“I sit by the sea wall, willing the waves to stay. Pulling away with gentle abandon – they avenge me for doing the same.”

The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.

A collection of thoughts bundled together and bound in twine – more toxic than any chemical, my very own poison.

And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.

Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.

The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.

Painting over cracks as you watch the ceiling fall – not everything can be healed with love.

Don’t waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.

A dishonor greater than any affair, is that of a friend who never was.

Hollow intent and echoes affection, a call with no response. Who could trust a dormant heart – where apathy is shaped like love?

Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.

I see the way that he is with you – holding your heart with softness he never spared for mine.

Lies sound so sweet when they are wrapped in velvet, a luxurious deception that charms my restless spirit – and I’m forever taken by beautiful things.

I fill the shadow of the girl you want, a placeholder to the one I know you’d rather – I’ll do for now, but not forever.

Maybe this time I choose ignorance, because giving began to feel like losing – repairing a house from rubble, and making sandcastles with the ash.

The knot in a grain of wood, a frost covering sodden grass. Mornings warmed by the rising sun and brewing coffee – the vision of the poet.

My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.

Satisfied if they themselves can escape from the hard labour of thought, they willingly abandon to others the guardianship of their thoughts.

I think each role takes a little from you and circles around you for the rest of your life. I don’t think you ever abandon any of them.

I do not tweeze my eyebrows. I’ve been letting them grow out for years. I try to fill them in wherever nature has abandoned me.

When you feel abandoned by God yet continue to trust him in spite of your feelings, you worship him in the deepest way.

A Church which abandons the truth abandons itself.

Not all homes are meant to be lived in. Some are meant to be abandoned. Some burnt.

Those who have been intoxicated with power… can never willingly abandon it.

We need to abandon our scale and adopt God’s because our misguided labels keep us from the right kind of interaction with people.