There is no such thing as darkness.
It’s just the absence of light,
It’s a lack of something you need,
But not something to make demands.
So when the darkness grows heavy,
Look at it and turn on your shine,
Tell it why it is nothing at all,
And why it has no power over you.
The moon and the sun do not fear night.
They decide, instead, when to allow it to be,
And the flame fears not the shadows,
But makes and unmakes them at will.
Darkness to light is not water to fire.
If anything, the only thing it can do,
Is make a contrast to make it seem brighter.
You are not the reflection in a piece of glass,
Waiting for something to hit it just so,
To break the gloom into little rainbows.
Instead, your soul burns hot and bright,
So remove the cover over your lantern,
Remove the things that keep the flame in check,
And light it all up from the inside.
And the things that skittered in the dark,
Catch them, burn them, and light their ashes
To pave the road for those who are yet to learn
That darkness is just the absence of light.

Glass Walls

I might have driven my mind crazy.
A lifetime of insecurities
Is screaming in my ear to panic,
It’s screaming that I’m lost, alone,
That I am not good enough.
And for the first time in my life,
It’s probably right, I’m probably not;
And for the first time in my life,
I’m tuning it out and minding my way,
because this is non-negociable.
This is what I want my life to be,
And I’ll be damned if I cower.
But I’ve skipped a couple hundred steps –
I’m someone who learns to persevere
In the very first situation
In which things don’t magically appear.
I’ve never had to work at all,
And now I have to work hard.
And my mind is desperately telling me
That I can’t, that I won’t,
And I see her lips moving
Through the glass walls
Of the prison I put it behind.
It’s a strange disconnection,
But it’s relieving, buoying…
It’s just a shame the feeling escapes me,
Since the thing that was supposed
To relay it to me in the first place
Is stuck behind glass walls
And otherwise preoccupied.


(image: Simon Heijdens exhibit)


I loved the world to die in flames;
I loved it, without face or names.
Its eyes of darkness cast on me,
I loved them, for they couldn’t see.

I loved the roses that were dying,
I loved the children that were crying.
Each and every drop of tear,
I loved it, for it wasn’t clear.

Why do we love all that is broken?
Why do we love what can’t be woken?
It is just a dream of ours,
That we’ll be buried with those flowers.

Battle with myself

I hate it when you hurt, I dread it if you cry,
But sure I am allowed to care for my tears.
Of course I could let it all go, away to fly.
Ignore it all, the pain, all that my soul sears.
Just tell me if that’s what you want and I’ll let go
But still I wish you wouldn’t claim that I be my own shadow
‘Cause, goodness, how I fear I’d really do it so
And lose myself in the world’s dull and boring meadow.
For higher proof it isn’t that your heart wasn’t for me,
Not for the girl, the human, mortal, that always sins and errs,
But for that glassy-eyed perfection of distorted reality,
That not a semblance to my self could ever hope it bears.

And yet, in my deepest of hearts there is another pain,
Another fear, of myself this time, that I wouldn’t be able
To do it all, forget myself, still both my heart and brain,
And this be proved to be just brag of my soul’s unstable
That I’m not so much of an angel as I claim to be,
Not able to put you before, my happiness aside,
That there’d be one small part to say love’s less than me,
And that all my reproach and sadness is unjustified.
How mean of me, to accuse you for seeing angels in my place,
That are so far from who I am, I know they are. And so do you.
But still I am in this unreal quest, interminable chase
To make a martyr of myself, perfection coming true.

And all this while loving life, admiring what I am,
How can I contradict myself so much, how can I suffer such?
And every time I’m given paper I’m starting to condemn
You, life, myself, who cares, since it doesn’t leave a touch?
But now I realise my one and only disappointment,
The one I hid and tried to keep, so lazy and complacent
With which I always do delay that one final appointment,
But to which I can’t quite help but always be adjacent,
Is, plain and simple, just myself. I’m so not what I could,
And what I sometimes wish I was. I am indeed the vestige.
I badly need infinities of love, for making me feel good,
I’m sorry I chose you. But now I’d die, if you happen me neglige.

Please forgive me. For getting caught in the crossfire
Of the battle with myself. I have only one excuse
For risking ruining your life. But I can’t help admire
The light that ever comes from you, that turns my wounds into a bruise.

Fear of Falling

The walls are rising high around
Blocking out both light and sound.
My world shrinks, so far away,
Blends fearful night into day.

My hands slide; I can’t climb up.
I fall back into death’s cup.
I can’t stay still. I need to go.
Though I think I’m sinking slow.

It’s not my fault. It’s quick sand here
The floor beneath, as sky will disappear.
What can do one that only knows to rise,
What can I do when there are no more skies?

Dark waits for me, under my feet.
I have to climb; no time to sit.
Of chasing ghosts, I’m just so tired,
To chase illusions I only once desired.

But the world’s not worth controlling.
All that I know: the fear of falling.