I wrote this a while ago, and only revisited it now. It’s not as well written as it could be, but here you go anyway, because I haven’t posted in ages: I don’t miss you. No. No – what I’m feeling right now isn’t the ache of lungs burnt out from breathing in too much […]Read More Past vs present.
‘When you look at the human face, you always look at the eyes. An eye has something special about it, it’s made of a different matter than the rest of the face.’ – Gaicometti Pointless talk of nothing, empty words which somehow manage to scream so loud, echoing with a thunderous vacantness… but then, eye […]Read More Eye contact.
Inhabit via Daily Prompt: Inhabit They say others live in your heart. They say the people you love make a home there and breathe on inside it. They say that your chest will be a place for beings to seek refuge inside, claiming it, making it their own… inhabiting it. It is a beautiful thing, […]Read More Poem: your heart and its flame.
The drops of water upon my skin became a map of all the people I had met. Some in clusters, like a diagram of the loud voices and screaming laughter conjured from the rush of a party or late night walks, high on ecstatic people. Others lay in solitude, like a simple display of talk […]Read More Droplets.
The sound of the rain upon glass resembled the sound of our scattered thoughts, tapping upon people.Read More Rain.
via Daily Prompt: Passenger I will not be a passenger on this journey of conventionality, of this square mind to fill and body to sculpt. I will not be a passenger, riding upon words of lies which tell us to hate, to fear, to oppress. I will not be a passenger on this rollercoaster […]Read More Passenger.
We live on a canvas. yeah… those things artists paint on, those things where thoughts and ideas solidify themselves into what we call art, those things where abstract concepts and floating daydreams formalise themselves onto what is merely a – blank space of nothingness. I wouldn’t go so far as to say we live on […]Read More We live on a canvas.