All your life searching

And I've the answers that you seek

Why the world falls down around us

And why you're incomplete

I'm the sugar in your cyanide

The whispers in your ear

The roses at your door way

The wind flying through your hair

The truth you cannot handle,

But it must be told

Take a deep breath for me sweetie,

And watch the story unfold…

I'll be the thorns on your roses

The tears that you've cried

The devil on your shoulder

And all the things you've lied

The end of the rainbow

The icing on the cake

The Candles in the window

The pills to fix that ache

It's a never ending cycle

I'll be there, to hell and back

I'll be your enemy and your angel

I'll make up for what you lack

Darkness hung over the house like a curtain.

That's the thing with safety, keeps everything out, keeps you protected. But it smothers you all the same.

In life we sometimes need to feel vulnerable, need to stand there with no walls, no barriers, just to feel alive.

I think that's why I don't like curtains

Watching the moon reflecting streams of light over the ocean and realizing that millions of others are looking up into the same moon, the same sky, and same stars, makes you feel small. Inadequate. Worthless. Meaningless.

It makes you want more.

Want to scream at the top of your lungs for something else, a reason or an answer for that one simple question

What is life?

Life: (Laif) noun

active principle of existence

time of its lasting

history of such existence

way of living

When I was younger a lot of my time was spent in hospital, so much so, that when my 5th birthday came round I was not surprised when my cake was brought into a crisp white room, and as I blew out the candles got told off as I had set of the hospital fire alarms.

Being that close to death (not myself personally but in fact the idea of death) made me realize a few things that even today I am still aware of.

Nothing is ever louder or quieter in fact, than the hospital. When I was there it was as if time stood still and life itself was quiet, surrounded by white walls that stopped anything from moving and eventually began to enter my head turning all my thoughts still, quiet and white.

But go there any other day where your heart is pounding stuck in your throat. And your thoughts are not your own, as they buzz throughout your body a million miles a second.

Death hangs in the air; it suffocates you,

It makes you breathe death, as you sit trying to pretend to be patient in the waiting room. When you're really waiting for a doctor to come out and break that last thread that's keeping your life together.

Moments like those made me who I am. Memories of when I was young still plague me today and every now and then I just have to stop to collect my breath as images and memories stream through my head and I remember children I loved and will never see again, the things I didn't notice at the time when I was just sick When they were dying.

But now I am older.

Wiser? No.

Confused? Yes.

sitting staring out my window as the moon continued reflecting over the water and my shivers slowly stopped I thought back to that white room and began to realize why I missed it so much. For me the time had stopped.

The world stopped living and I stopped breathing and for once in my life, I felt safe.