Smoke

In the buzz, and movement, we collided. We spun, we danced and then we let go. What is left is a puff of smoke. Perfumed, lingering longing. Smoke. No more. 

Pause

Life isn't the race.

Life is the pause. 

It's the contemplation.

It's the sigh. 

Life is when you look up and around. 

Life isn't black and white, 

but made up of the most brilliant colours. 

Life is waiting for a moment, but then going for it. 

Life is the

pause. 

Last message

Sunflowers and sunsets. Goodbyes not said. A quiet exit, a whisper. Did you hear it? I called you. Did you hear me? Between right and wrong. And now I'm gone.

Enough

 To be beautiful is enough. To be strong is enough. To be happy is enough. 

Burn

 Each day gives me a chance to pick myself up and start again. 

But I do have a book, a tiny one, in which I've written what I will not do again. 

I've learnt my lesson, I'll not do it again. 

Bring on the Sun today.

Let it burn. 

Hold on

The littlest gestures matter:

How you talk to someone.

How you show up. 

Your availability. Your willingness. 

How you remember what they want and not just what they like. 

How you hold on. 

Wounded Children

We are tired, flawed, and quietly afraid. We carry our wounds like rare treasure, forgetting that everyone bleeds. Yet, we still fail to empathise with another. We fail to realise we all go through the same pains. We think, it's only us. It's not. We are all wounded children.