sometimes distance is best kept distant
as lives sometimes forget what’s important
for more fabricated ideas
a fabrication used to drift into the past
where others don’t want to speak
of truths for tomorrow
where books are often left
collecting the dust from torn pages
that only wrinkle when actually read
the pages lay on the ground
and stack themselves into a miniature pile
where diaries are best kept burnt.
wishing to spray across the skies
in ashes built to remind us
that smogs and dusk only
cloud our sky because we cry.
we cry alone sometimes because
tomorrows never blossom into
the realities we look for
the realities we dream of
the reality that tomorrow
can be written and not burned
from our existence.
Hi my name is Patrick Murphy, I am a writer in the confessional genre of poetry. I write for fun and hobby first and enjoy it as an art form. My goal is to help fight stigma when it comes to mental illness.