pleasefindthis's Blog: Written On The Side Of The Page , page 6

People laugh faster than you.

They laugh without thinking about it and they seem easier in themselves, like they were poured into their skin.

Not like you.

You feel like you're borrowing your skin, waiting for the owner to show up at a party, remember he lent it to you, and ask for it back. 

Sometimes, you look at the stars in the sky like they might be home.

And you try and find yourself in every puddle that you cross in the street.

Maybe the world isn’t all good, but if you hold my hand, I can prove to you that it’s not all bad either.

There is good love in the hearts of a few, and a few is all you need.

Hate is the only illness you can choose to get better from.

Who are you still competing with in your good heart, and will you really waste your last words on your deathbed to say, "Do you see? I won."

We were walking past the lake, when my reflection took my place.

It held your hand and watched you slowly drift away from me.

It threw a plate against a wall the night after you left, when it relealised you were never coming back.

It drove around for hours on its own, not knowing where to go.

It held the phone, not knowing who to call.

And this is the only way I can explain to anyone what I'm doing, underneath the water.

There is no bravery in a gun.

Brave is saying no to the comfort that kills you.

There is no bravery in a fist.

Brave is singing Kumbaya softly to a screaming baby.

There is no bravery in a flag.

Brave is holding onto the air itself to stop yourself from falling into yourself.

There is no bravery in a crowd.

Brave is knowing who you are, even when everyone else doesn’t.

There is no bravery when it's easy.

Brave is carrying on and on, and looking and finding all the angles and all the keys, and turning every single one.

There is no bravery in bright light.

Brave is fighting the sun itself for the right words to talk yourself off the ledge.

There is no bravery in hurt.

Your bravery is kneeling on the ground.

In the end, your bravery is living.

I know you and I know your engine. Your engine runs on truth and light and nothing else works, I've seen you try and fill it with the kind of lies people want to hear and it was like watching someone fill their gas tank with sugar. Sweet, but going nowhere.

Tell them, “If you’re gone too long, I will light candles for you in the dark. I will burn down a forest just so that you see it." And maybe they won't go.

I know how you felt when I touched you, because I know how I felt when you touched me. So you cannot tell me that you do not think of it often, or wonder why no one will ever be able to touch you like that, again.

____

The winners of the competition to win signed, limited edition prints of my most popular poems are:

On twitter:

@bbbrooke_ann
@starsasthoughts
@wemadeeyou

On instagram:

@eeosh
@k.prebz
@gvcv16

Please mail me at pleasefindthis at gmail dot com with your shipping details. If you didn't win, remember, this is only the first competition, there'll be more and they'll be announced on instagram or twitter or facebook soon.

Thank you for your time, and thank you to everyone who's give the new book such an incredibly warm welcome into the world,

Me

I'm the record.

You're the needle.