August 2011
1 post
Sick Feeling
Cold walls, pulsating silence. The air is so still, so white, so quiet. I feel like vomiting but I can’t leave.
July 2011
2 posts
1 tag
The rain sweeps past my window, washing the streets clean of the turmoil of yesterday, only to be dirtied again by the footsteps of the weary. I love lying in bed listening to the night; silent but only for the quiet static of raindrops by the window.
2 tags
My fingers trace the outlines of your freckled landscape; from the sleepy valleys of your collarbones to the lofty peaks of your two bare hips, every bone a soft reminder of your fragility.
May 2011
2 posts
1 tag
Her
You thought of her; So pale and small, With unkempt hair And husky drawl
Her hollow eyes, Her acid tongue, Her shallow breaths From blackened lung.
I ached. The low and heavy reverb echoed in my skull, soon fading in to white noise as I slipped away. I seeped out of myself, thick and fast. I was nearly completely gone. Lights pulsated red behind my lids and I knew it wouldn’t be long now. Wiry sirens sank their teeth in to my flesh and lashed their acidic tongues at my ears. I had been asking for it all along, you see, but now that the end...
April 2011
6 posts
2 tags
The hazy glow from the street lights resembled a forest fire in the distance, firy hues blazed against a pitch black sky.
The rain wept silent, dirty tears on to our tired bodies. It was the dreariest winter the city had ever seen. This was the kind of weather which washed everything in a murky grey-brown, and fixed permanent frowns on the inhabitants who now skulked the pavements with their jacket collars pulled up around their ears or huddled in shadowed doorways.
You had a ghostly look about you in this light....
1 tag
The Bunker
Golden sunlight burst through the splinters of space between the gnarled arms of old trees and shattered window panes, casting dangerous shapes on the floor beneath us. The whole place had a sort of dreamy feel to it, as if it had been completely abandoned by time; a living photograph destined to remain this way forever.
Our parents warned us not to play here. All the kids in the neighbourhood...
I think it would be nice
to disappear one day,
Just let go of my thoughts
and slowly fade away.
You might be sad at first,
and maybe even cry,
But I would tell you this for sure;
it was a lovely thing — to die.
I feel like there is a giant magnet in my chest which is forlornly pulling at an invisible counterpart, just hoping that something will pull back.
I feel like my own skin is trying to crawl its way off my body, or something underneath is trying to break though. As if, very soon, I will soar and combust and be filled with an irrevocable calm. I feel like, for the past few years, I’ve just been waiting. Waiting to wake up and realise and know.
When in reality, I’ve been slowly drowning for a while now; getting heavier and deeper as time goes...
March 2011
2 posts
I’ve felt this hollow space in my chest for months now. Heavy, but completely empty. It whistles on a windy day, gathers water when it rains, and when loved… it only aches.
1 tag
You had pale, blue-toned translucent skin dotted with delicate brown freckles. In the right light you almost looked ghost-like, I thought, but maybe that’s just my wild imagination working again. I’d never seen anyone like you. I often studied people’s faces through windows, on public transport and over coffee cups in cafes — old people with their weathered studious faces and...
February 2011
9 posts
I just need to be smaller. Forever smaller… thin and flat like the shadow you carry. Nothing but a wisp, a temporary puff of smoke. Small. Perfect.
1 tag
Empty
We stood together in complete silence for ages, it seemed, until he put his hands on either side of my face and looked deep into my eyes. He screwed up his face and bit his lip slightly, as he does when he is thinking. I searched his eyes for a hint to what it was he trying to figure out but his usual glimmer seemed to fade as he too, searched mine.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, squinting...
Soft lavender blush on milky lids, the scent of forgotten flowers hung in tepid air.
I traced the outlines of your porcelain skin with my eyes, studied every delicate curve of your fragile body: your slightly open cherub lips, your soft flowing hair the colour of spun gold, your deep ocean eyes. “Truly breathtaking” I whispered. You replied asking what I had said. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud and now my cheeks were a fiery scarlet red. “Oh nothing..” I replied.
I had loved...
Every morning you wake up and every morning you fix that crooked smile to your face in the hope that, one day, you won’t have to pretend anymore.
She felt her way along the walls, her fingers stiff. The sound of a distant drip of water tantalisingly slid down her neck and spine, leaving her covered in a blanket of goosebumps. It was getting darker the further she went, she realised, easing her way along the dark corridor as carefully as she could, taking tiny steps at a time as to make sure she didn’t trip or fall. She kept her hand by her...
You stood at the window, your skin bleached by the pale light of the distant moon. Shadows hugging every outline of your body, creating a perfect silhouette. I watched you then, my dark eyes gazing down the soft curves of your spine. Milky wisps of hair fell silently over your shoulders, swaying languidly in the soft breeze.
You looked positively angelic. I had always thought so, but at this...
1 tag
Words, thick like honey, dripped off your lips and into my desperate, swollen mouth. Seeping through the paper-thin suit that adorns my body, making my frame heavy with your poetic love, drowning.
The Ache
I have a terrible ache. The kind of deep, hollow ache that one can only feel once they’ve had their heart torn out and smashed to pieces. I don’t expect you to understand.