i would pull the sky down just to see you smile
while you hide in this box, justify this pretense
you always said life not lived
could never be life at all
so explain your worth, justify the means
or is this the end that tragedy defined

is this the last breathe of perception
the last image of a life once lived
the end of an era marked by tall monuments
shallow restraints reinforced with chains
built up over years of existence
her stare could melt the ice
yet her eyes focus downwards
and they say there is no ice in hell


i wade through ember essence
in thick trenches to ease this pain
distant faces stain old portraits
as time breathes then simply fades
she said i'm stuck in motion
so i agreed and carried on
i died that summer reading
a letter marked dear john


'hit me, again' she said almost begging, through pursed lips, tears outlining her delicate face glistening in the dim light. he paused, caught half way in animation with his hand poised ready to obey her plead. 'do it.'


i had the same dream again
of being alive, as i rest on broken wings
facing tomorrow eluding escape
for every breathe followed through
lies frozen thoughts of past emotion
i'm struggling to sleep
but i'm drawn to the rush
never have i come this close to living
what is this trance that we walk through
where strings lead our arms
and clear cut paths lead our legs
no, this isn't life
so i dream, and there i find reality


last i heard diamonds last forever
we're made to stray from distance
to revolve around tragedy
thanks to this we're in existence
so let's lie in wait as forever comes crashing
only to become one with disaster
as floods swell and we fill this fate
we bury hatchets in the sand
and watch as diamonds turn to dust
this is all we know.


young boy.

tell me young boy what ghost are you chasing
this war has left numb hands bleeding in the snow
you lust for life of summer and autumn
grip tight the memory of everything you have sewn
lost as these seconds turn to sorrow
another life torn apart from the world
young boy, your asking for tomorrow
to escape, as shadows of yesterday grow
and this, this is all that you are now
young boy you'v become all that you know
tell us, who are you dying for
and he replies, i'm just chasing ghosts.

sending children to war really isn't cool.
i swore i'd never let anyone change me
then you came into my life
now i'm questioning every emotion
and everything that i thought was right
in all honesty, this is all i ever wanted


this is my love song

this compass pulls me in new directions
as closed words escape the life i lead
we're wrapped in skim-read sidenotes
holdfast to lost ambitions that set sail months ago
i relapse each second this clock ticks off
and fill myself with hopes of tomorrow
as dreams lay caught on woven thread
i sit in the sky waiting to land
tell me today you saw the sun set into the ocean
this is my breathe and it's gone with the wind



talking to you now i know i never knew you at all
do you even know yourself
or are you going to keep faking forever
cos when forever comes to an end
you'll still be the same mess that you are today
tell me, do you see this masquerade
or do you feel lost in each character
trapped in each chapter
hidden behind a mask for each season
only ready to fall.
on broken wings i fall
until there's nothing left but you
i will give you my all
because you are all that i am


i'm the type of person that makes alot of mistakes and becomes a better person through each and every one of them | your the type of person that makes no mistakes and stays the same boring person you were 2 years ago.


i'm pretty sure the aim of each fashion label should be to reach a point where they can release a season of 5 dollar t-shirts printed with one square on the front and sell phenomenally.


what a world you live in
i'll give you it all if it means that much
and reassure you that your tomorrows
will be as beautiful as the sun sinking into the ocean

so take it from me have it all
i won't sustain a reason

facing admission once again
these are entry level pretenses and i'm stuck at hello
find shallow words followed by a promise
let's forget we even spoke at all

so take it from me have it all
i won't sustain a reason

comeback season, i'm watching you float away
designer emotions gift wrapped in tears
does it always have to end like this
cross my heart i swear you'll never cross my mind again




let's just get away. and take timeless snapshots as the sun sinks into the ocean.
idol faced beauty queens
fire 44 caliber bullets
straight through my heart
they tell me to die slower
as if;
dying is the last of my concerns
i could sit in silence forever
outside of this window
looking at life from a new perspective
scream so shallow to nobody but myself
so here i am, cross my eyes
play russian roulette with silver bullets
until the chamber is empty
i'd rather die in your arms
than live each day without you.
so pedantic.
with every cut he feels emotions chip away. ever so slightly, but just enough to take his mind off her. the smooth sound of blue-note records floats around the air, taking him to a new zone, while he sits half jaded in the center of his room. cutting. chipping away at building blocks that he'd built over the years, breaking down securities, and any remenants of love.

on the outside he's your average boy. but on the inside his life's on standby.

autumn. the season where leaves scatter and crumble under tight laced sneakers, tree's start fading, coats are brought out to fight the cold breeze, yet the clouds stay hidden as blue skies still hang overhead. contrast. it was then she stepped into his life. he was walking through the park, leather jacket, jeans, sneakers, and a baseball cap - tilted to the side. scarf wrapped around his neck and his hands in each pocket, one grasping tight to his cell phone; as if a missed call could end the world. she was sitting on a bench, day dreaming as she did. contemplating life, chewing her last piece of gum. collision. he sat next to her, almost unaware of her presence. and her of his. they lingered here for a while; in their own worlds. so disconected from the world around them, so close, yet so distant from eachother. jean paul gaultier. he turned to face her, and stopped. life on standby.

the rest of the day sat like a moment in time. rose n roll, right? a slight grin struck her face as she turned around. pause. he introduced himself, and it seemed like hours until they finally decided it was time to walk home. they walked through the park, and down the road. no idea where she was taking him, he just knew that he wanted every second he could have with her. he felt crazy. he'd never felt like this before; they talked about life, dreams, aspirations, past relationships and everything in between. both uni students, both working throughout the holidays. both laughing at eachothers jokes, and listening intently to eachothers stories. you could say that two worlds collided that night, and went from a distance as vast as the seas, to a connection closer than the tide reaching for the sand. they finally reached her house; exchanged numbers and sorted out a date. tomorrow. he told her that he'd call. he never did.

the next morning she woke up, waiting for a call. it never came. instead. at 1 pm she heard a knock on the door. and there he was; almost the same clothes as the day before, except a different tee shirt. half dressed and taken in by the suprise she told him to come in, sat him down in the lounge and rushed to her room to where she'd already layed out her outfit for the day. after quickly chucking it on and standing behind the door for a minute, masking her rush she appeared. the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life. set back for a minute, lost in time. they stood in silence lost in their own world. the transition between hers and his, meeting eachother half way in far off zones. and this was only the second time they'd seen eachother.

he took her out for lunch at a local cafe, tucked away in a small secluded part of town. then they drove out to the beach and spent the day laying by the sand talking. conversation was endless, and emotions grew stronger with every word. they saw eachother almost every day, and for the next 2 years they were living in heaven. every day they seemed more beautiful to eachother, every day conversation grew deeper, and they grew together, almost as one, defined as individuals, yet so close together that at times you could swear they were almost the same.

winter finally hit, and it was cold. comedy turned tragedy. after months of tests, and countless clinic visits he was told that in five months his world would end. they made the most of the time they had left together. they tried to cross dreams off of their list, and jam in everything they could. but time kept ticking, then one morning as he was walking to her house his phone started ringing. though this time he didn't feel it. his hands weren't in his pockets as they were busy wrapping a box of her favourite chocolates. his phone buzzed away until it stopped, and as he came to a halt at the crossing he checked only to find a short message left on his answer machine. i love you followed by a length of silence, and then crying in the background. his world just came to an end. the rest of the day was a blur, he ran to the house with hopes of catching one last breath, though silence was all that would follow.

and now he sits, cutting at his wrists. trying to numb the pain that had been left in his heart. it's true the people you love hurt you the most, and all he knows is that he would rather bleed every night than breathe without her by his side. cutting. drowning out the feeling of love lost. the only thing he could feel now since his world was shattered. chipping away at remnants. of. love.


i'm contemplating spraying YSL opium on my neck and taking your mother back to the 70's.
i can't really think of anything right now, even though i'm thinking of everything. sitting at the bus stop lost in skyzoo's 'dear whoever'. contemplating life and complications. finally cleared all focus of girls, and decided to look towards the future. life's looking up i guess. i'm employed, starting uni next year, twenty in a few weeks, look good, feel good, dress nice, has good friends around me. yet so many complications still seem to pop up.

some days i feel like i'm living between point A and B. day dreams. scenarios. the thing is nothing plays out like it does in my mind.

okay. i've had this open for an hour, and i just deleted about 5 paragraphs. super tired gonna just post lol



definition of perfection:

noun: a state of flawlessness
noun: an ideal instance; a perfect embodiment of a concept
noun: her
her: you




i'm searching for words, but i love you doesn't come to mind.

it could be that your never there emotionally. or that we don't see eye to eye; humour. different. views. different. interests. different. everything i do, you don't agree with. everything you do makes me feel more and more insecure. i'm trying to piece together a picture of us happily together; but we're torn at the edges. we don't fit how we used to. you've grown into you. i've grown into me. and who we are now isn't the couple that went so well together these past years. it's not that i don't love you. because i do. it's not that your not good enough; it's the fact that our love you's have become routine and our kisses have lost all expression. we don't smile anymore. we don't talk how we used to. we went from new, to comfortable, to unstable. now we're holding on to nothing, free falling further away from us each day.



perfection. a bad habit that developed after years of being told i was good at things when i knew i wasn't. motivation. striving for it daily. coming up short. i guess i found being hard on myself was the easiest way to really judge everything that i do. so; perfectionism - if that's the word - works like a gift and a curse. because no matter what way you play it you're still aiming above and beyond, so even in failing you'll find yourself constantly overshooting average. but that's not the point at all.

what i really wanted to say is that perfection begins and ends with her.



we used to go exploring in the bush behind our house, or play out on the road. we went on day trips around the neighborhood, and filled our agendas with rolling around in the dirt. climbing tree's. grazing knees. tearing clothes. bee stings and pretending to be characters from our favourite films. the hardest thing was sleeping at night. not because of thoughts or emotions. but because of excitement. everything was new back then. there was no real pain, and anything that hurt would be gone the next morning. too young to actually comprehend what was going on. young enough to just accept whatever came. immature enough to not really care when something happened. and naive enough to just move on. forget. but some things you don't forget. just see them in different lights as you mature with them sitting in the back of your mind.

the boy was cycling as fast as he could. a voice in his mind relaying quotes from car races he'd seen on TV. another voice screaming at his helmet, telling it to stop sliding over his eyes. finally, one more voice. this one behind him. getting closer, and it was screaming.

i've almost caught up!

bike races. they do them all the time. it takes twenty minutes to go from the quiet street they lived on, to the old church on the corner of a busy main road. no stopping. they'd rush through the school. past the fire station. and eventually end up at their destination.

i'll win next time!

it was always said. the walk back generally took all day, there was always something to get caught up on. always an adventure waiting. wether it was old sewage pipes that lead under the roads, or giant trees waiting to be climbed. the fire station bells going off and fulfilling sudden urges to run to the station to catch a glimpse of the enourmous trucks in action. skatebording around the school, attempting tricks they'd seen on tony hawk's. or lounging around the street soaking up the sun. that's the thing. sun. it was always sun. rain didn't happen to often back then. maybe once or twice, but memories aren't built around rain. at least not at that age.

but now memories are constructed completely different. when did it change, i don't even know. the kids don't talk any more; they haven't seen eachother in years. problems seem to filter down from mom to him these days. money. family. bills. anything and everything. they don't really talk as much as they used to. and when they do it's on shakey grounds. he loves her, but they don't see eye to eye. it's complicated. most days he day dreams of the past, back when it didn't rain. when every day he would come home and tell mom how his day was. how he would spend every afternoon out playing with his friends. friends were aways around then. girls were never a problem. he had no responsibility. the world was so small, all he knew was all he was. it was simple. some days he wishes it never changed.

now memories are built around rain. and it rains alot.


flywithme; loveisblind.
top floor;
i can see the city in it's entirety. every alleyway and avenue. every street corner. every busy person scurrying along to pre-arranged appointments. others walking as if times on their side, as if the worlds turning slower than it really is. some aren't moving at all. i can see into parks, groups of tourists taking in our familiarities. snap shots. boulivards. life. dreams. hope. the city breathes, and i can see it all. then walking below i spot a couple, i'm guessing their my age. i sit and watch. they laugh and run around in their own small world, settling for a moment in the park then finally disappearing into a small cafe. the door bell rings.

slightly agitated. her hair shows signs of a tiring day at work, finally left to sit at ease. even now it's perfect. holding her heels in one hand, and handbag in the other she tilts her head to the side and smiles. beautiful. i grab her things and chuck them in the corner, then ask about her day. busy. apparently. i tell her to lay down and chose a dvd, as i head into the kitchen. routine. i do this every day. i'm sure she's not hungry. i'm not even hungry. so i put on the kettle and walk back to the lounge. she'd chosen just like heaven. great. i was kinda hoping for something like scarface.

the thing about love stories is that this shit will never happen. your not going to fall into a coma and wake up as a ghost. your not going to find a ghost in your apartment. and if you ever do it definitely won't fall in love with you. that being said, it's still nice to think what if.

insomnia. i can't sleep. staring at the city once more. every breath it takes makes me feel as if i could fly away with the breeze. stars. listening to the never dying rush of traffic. horns. music. night life. laughter; and there they were. the same couple from earlier, still looking as stupid as they did before. still in a far off zone that made them seem so apart from the world we're living in. i can feel her arms wrap around me. freeze. it's cold. silly me. what are you thinking? should i tell her. tell her about this couple that i'd seen twice today. tell her how i feel about love stories? i dont. should i fly away? i could.

morning. she woke me up to say goodbye, but i got up around twelve. days off are great. i go to stare at the city again. this has become so routine. no couple this time, but again the breeze is here. i could fly right now. i really could. there goes the door. this time she walks in, chucks her heels on the floor and hugs me. that beautiful smile glowing. hair perfect as always. definitely exhausted, but happy.

why are you always staring outside? i figure i should tell her. so i did. i explained it all, and then it came out.

i want to fly.

and that was that. she frowned. then laughed. you don't have to fly; your scaring me. every time i'm with you i feel as high as the clouds, and as far away as heaven. love stories do happen; we're in one, and i'm sure the couple earlier were cute, but their no you and i. and with that she walks into the kitchen. and i hear the kettle flick on.


love is funny. some times your too focused on what's happening around you to realize what you have yourself. love isn't defined by stories, or fairy tales. some times your so blind to it that you don't realize person your in love with is right in front of you. some times you treat them like a ghost, and all it takes is them to say one thing to make you realize that you had it all along. you don't have to fly. you don't have to dream. because when your in love your soaring every day; and every moment is a dream in itself.



brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain. brain. dead. dead. brain.



if i could i would;
i ink letters that will never be read
words that will never be spoken
thoughts that lay secret forever
emotions forced to stay hidden
this roller coaster ride of hope
up and down, side to side
so. appalling.
i find myself scribbling transcripts
to cut off the dull essence of forever
i could conquer the world like this
sit on the highest mountain
and reach for the stars
but right now i'm drowning in thoughts
in a far off zone, almost another galaxy
where i'm reaching for stars
but their as far away as the earth is
and what for?
so i can wake up each day, smiling
on the outside i have it together
but i'm falling apart at the seams




length. space. distance. whatever you want to call it. a bargain bin of emotions to fit the loose feeling of surveying this vast wasteland that i call my mind. length. space. distance. they tell decades of broken fairy tales and adolescent dreams cut into tiny wallet sized memories. almost lost, never forgotten. close but no cigar. romeo and juliet. me without you. relative cliche's that shoot ones imagination into a frenzy. inner hopes displayed on nitrate film flickering reel after reel playing back to back masquerading a montage of would, could, and should be's. day in and day out, this dream sits on repeat. then, there she is; in the midst of the silent chaos. she's there. no dragon, no tower, no strings. just her.

i swear i zone out every ten minutes.

yellow. my earliest memory was finally making the transition from headlining the word with an 'L' to stringing together two syllables letter for letter. achievement. life was great back then. simple. with an array of new adventures packed into each day. too young to really know what was going on, but conscious enough to be alive. i guess yellow had always attracted me, so naturally finding a yellow car was a clear cut sign of a '
meant to be' situation. i couldn't wait to show it off and so here i was. late. in traffic. sitting behind the wheel of this brand new car. day dreaming of distance.

driving along was so smooth, and i found myself coming to the exit sooner than expected. suprised that i could remember where to go, everything seemed so familiar. guided by landmarks that were kept secluded in my mind eventually parking outside her house narrowly avoiding the curb i started to make my way to the door. very compulsive. after picking up the car i decided to see if she wanted to go for lunch. as far as plans go, i make them to fail. this one failed according to plan and well, i ended up on her door step, checking my reflection once more in a shaded window ready to knock.

and there she was. wrapped in a summer dress, small purse over her shoulder, leather jacket in one arm and something relevant from her extensive shoe collection. she stood perfectly alligned between the door and looked up with that gorgeous smile that words could never describe. she'd squint her eyes ever so slightly to combat the sun, and i stepped aside to shadow all that i could. relax. i could see her now. a sudden rush of thoughts streamed through my mind. and through all of this confusion, she was there; she was beutiful.

we made our way to the cafe. a small upstairs balcony on a busy street. even though we were surrounded by what seemed like half of the city, it still felt like just us.
refined. we cracked semi awkward one liners dressed as witty responses. and conversated topics that no plan would include. it was freedom. the feeling you get when everything goes right. we sat for what seemed like hours, as minutes dragged on. i could be here forever. her image of perfection reinforced by every word she spoke. her laugh. her smile. her opinions. they all counted towards a deep infatuation that i couldn't get out of. even though we weren't together, every time i was with her i felt like i was on mars. floating through the atmosphere drifting between known and unknown planets. reaching for the stars.

we'd spend the rest of the day walking along the beach, stopping momentarily to lay on the sand, or under shade. staring into the
distance. the sea. forever. watching the waves break on the shore. kids burying eachother and building castles brick by boring brick. our similarities collided and joint as one, as differences found common grounds and tied loose ends. this is where heaven starts and stops. i'd pinch my arm with every smile, and get lost in her eyes, while feeling as though i'm drifting between reality and dreams; or as if they were simply coinciding.

finally the day came to a close, and we drove through quiet dim lit streets as darkness covered the remains of sunset. we sat in the car. silence. it was calm. i thanked her for the day, as i made my way out and around to open her door. fighting urges to grab her hand. i wanted to escape. a final kiss on the cheek and a hug goodbye set the mood for a game of timing. it was now or never. almost perfected. practiced over and over every time distance and i sat down to flick through flammable film strips. out came the bi-product of uncontrolled dreams. a lottery with a fine line separating dreams and more distance. i liked her. and now she knew.

a semi-shocked look on her face. finally plans went accordingly. i tried to imagine what she was thinking, but the beat of my heart gunned down any loose thought floating through this warzone.
i don't know what to say. say anything. departure. we hugged again and i slipped away. once more turning back to see that she was still standing under the door way. glowing in the moonlight. wrapped in a summer dress, small purse over her shoulder, leather jacket covering her arms, and a relevant pair of heels from her extensive shoe collection. beautiful.

i sat in the car for a minute, going over what happened. replaying word for word common mistakes, building up regret and sustaining hope.
should i txt her? will she txt me. a simple thank you for the day could be adequite. or over the top. i decided to leave it and drive home. she didn't know what to say. i don't know why i did.

length. space. distance. whatever you want to call it. once again floating in and out of zones. then there it was. yellow. blinded by yellow lights, screams from horns and a sudden lash of breaks in an attempt to slow speed. distance. speed. this could work out but it doesn't. length. space. distance. i'm sitting here as sudden snap shops develop in front of me. HD screens play novels through from beginning to end. words connect and collide. broken fairy tales come to an end as adolescent dreams tie knots. gone but not forgotten. forever yours. forever mine. romeo and juliet. me without you. relative cliche's and what remains of the day play on repeat. but it's different now. she's there.
no cafe. no beach. no sandcastles. just her. beautiful. we're back on her doorstep. she says me too. i lean in to kiss her and yellow fades to black. there are no happily ever afters. because happiness like this knows no end. before the last drop of yellow fades. i whisper; i love you.

- richy.