vividacity

the dreams are back



twisting reality once more into a tangible mess of air pools and blunt colour

photo.  

does this mean what i think

if i could sleep

photo.  

i could sleep
(in or out of my head)
for a thousand years
in a thousand places
and still couldn't face
the tears
i would shed
if i were to keep
going.

i could sleep
for a thousand years
all for love
for goodness' sake
and still wouldn't be
asleep enough
to awake
from this travesty
(my mind is slowing).

i could sleep
for a thousand years
i'd cling to it like
my oldest friend
though he
(the little tyke)
would not send
to me
any replies.

if i could sleep
for a thousand years
i'd be left uninspired
mouth gagged in slumber's scream
as hours minutes seconds end
time would blend
with a watery dream
before my tired
eyes.

smoke and mirrors

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there's smoke in my mouth
smoke in my mouth
smoke in my mouth
it won't come out

this changes things
you think
i think
as your eyes dart to my ash-traced lips

"you you you are not who we thought"
you think
i think
there's no we anymore

blushing pilgrims no longer
lest shame makes us so
i am bound to the foe
now you are my foe

i am your foe
though i didn't mean to be
this changes things
stains more than skin deep

i'm being choked
by blackened smoke
i'm tainted with cancer
you're tainted with hope.

smile

in that one smile, everything was said
wasn't it

that i'm not who you thought

that our secret is different now

that i'm not who i thought

photos. 

this smoke isn't coming out of my mouth

party girl

It doesn't matter whether you were joking or not.

I got angry, because (honestly)

I'm pretty disappointed with myself too.

photo.   

the grass is always greener i suppose.

i remember now

this. this is why i did it

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sometimes the darkness gets so thick you forget where you came from
this is what breathing feels like.

definition

You say you wanna stand by my side

Darling your head's not right

I see alone we stand together we fall apart
Yeah, I think I'll be alright
I'm working so I won't have to try so hard
Tables they turn sometimes.
Oh someday.

I ain't wasting no more time.

Someday-The Strokes

future.

where do you see yourself in 5 years?

that's the problem, i don't.

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i think my soul fell out my eyes a long time ago

this relief isn't enough

thank-you

It's not our fault we're made this way

we're faulty by design

-meg and all the rest, dylan smith

honestly? sometimes i hold on to that like it's the last truth in the world

photo.  

(excuses, excuses, excuses)

where would we be without them?

utopia

warm and safe,
like a pea in a pod
a bug in a rug
a yolk in its shell,
protected.
Never lonely because
you're never alone.
Mummmmm.
a constant word
hums like time.
my lullaby,
-our lullaby-
Her presence can't be erased.
we're forever bound by the first hug.

words swim toward me
enveloped in silence
her murmurings.
Then suddenly, louder
frantic
pain, stretching, tearing,
never-ending
it slips into my lungs 
white hot air stabbing my insides
screams, ours.
we scream together
as we are torn apart
oxygen and air and lungs
                                      and pain




cold and vulnerable
the egg has cracked.

save yourself.

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if it's a monster
put it down
before it hurts somebody or hurts itself
(monsters can be reckless, you know)
it probably won't survive much longer anyhow

stop hiding.

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this is how i live.

in half privacy, my clothes scattered on the floor

like shards of glass.

allowing anyone to see what's underneath

Piggy

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The moonlight reflected off the still water, Jack raised the conch to his lips, then hesitated, lowering it once more. His voice was steady but an air of genuine uncertainty hung about his words, ‘The trouble is: are there ghosts, Piggy? Or beasts?'


‘Course there aren’t.’

‘Why not?’

I struggled to express my thoughts, my reasoning; that science and magic are separate, that they can’t coexist. Grown-ups have explored and discovered and created and they don’t believe in ghosts so how could they be wrong? There can’t be both and we’ve already proved science is correct through light bulbs and TV’s.

‘ ’Cos things wouldn’t make sense. Houses an’ streets, an’ -TV- they wouldn’t work.’

But even as the words left my mouth, part of me didn’t believe it. The boys’ chanting was merging with the waves and I could no longer make out words, just a blur of noise. Through my broken specs I could see they were still dancing, recklessly, wildly and a part of me longed for that freedom, the sense of insane carelessness that they seemed to possess. The right lens of my specs clashed with the absence of the left, creating a blurred world of colour and rhythm that the boys seemed to be seized by. Ralph was thinking, recapping the night’s events, the boys’ stories. I could hear Ralph’s breaths, coming quick and uneven, I could identify with this, feelings of uncertainty, it’s something I know well, but not in Ralph. Ralph –the confident leader, I almost didn’t recognise it in him, I didn’t want to, because if I began to acknowledge his fear than I may be forced to acknowledge my own.

‘But s’pose they don’t make sense? Not here, on this island? Supposing things are watching us and waiting?’

Ralph shuddered violently and I jumped as he bumped into me. He was scaring me and I didn’t like it. Mine was the voice of reason, of science, but it suddenly occurred to me how far away that world was, how unaware of our location or existence it was. In the dark, with the raging, chanting, dancing boys breaking the silence and the shadows creeping forever towards us, I suddenly felt unsure and for a moment I even believed. Uncertainty, terror and invisible threats seemed to inhabit this island, possessing anyone who dared defy them, they engulfed me. What if we were never found? What if this monster’s real? What if we die here? What if grown-ups aren’t right about everything? The last one hung in my mind a few moments longer than the others, scaring me more than any of the others could. The boys chanting rose in pitch suddenly and I became aware of myself, I shook myself out of that state of mind; there was no monster, beast or ghost. There was only us, ‘maybe it’s only us’, Simon’s voice echoed in my head but before I had a chance to follow it, it had disappeared and a newfound strength empowered me, if only momentarily. Ralph was not allowed to back out now. A surge of anger washed over me, unfamiliar and hot in my throat.

This is it

photo.   

every time the feelings creep back
(aren't they like rats)
i look at the proof
my fingertips tracing the memory

like a medal
i remember the triumph
and the feelings are dimmed once more

buriedfed.

"And they took her to the doctor

To fix her heart, and heal her head

She said, “Goddamn, I’m tired of being polite

Go save somebody else instead”

buriedfed; miles benjamin anthony robinson

live a little

I want to yell
Scream so loud that birds fly out of trees.
But then, somebody might hear me.

please, don't let me go through life like this