a glimpse

you peel back the covers
quite viciously too
trying not to care
not to let it get to you
and your heart just falls down one of the stairs
or hangs suspended mid-fall in the air
and this is what you see:
(what do you see?)
there’s a girl (there she is)
folded up neatly on the bed
as neat as a present
wrapt up in a million layers
that are crying out for a single key to unlock her soul
open her up as a gift to the world
but for this moment she is paralysed
yet swimming in a salty sea of so many troubles
trying to stay afloat
she is cloaked in a blanket of darkness
it keeps her warm (but she’s so cold)
she’s holding on to her heart
listening so deeply to the noises that escape her
the gaspy breaths and silent squeaks
there’s blotches on her face
nothing is as neat as it seems
the mess may be hidden but still it is there
all around
she knows you are there
can feel your presence
but she does not move
she can not move
still
you’re in denial so you say your words
loud and strong they slice the air
as effortless and controlled as ever
she shakes a little and tries to speak
each word is another doleful creak
you don’t want to play the card of sympathy
just yet
no matter how much of a wreck
she is
you walk out of the room
leaving her
door open
leaving her
open

incoherence is necessary

darting glances are inspired by the balls hanging in the air that have been tossed recklessly up there from the hairy clumsy hands of gentle beings and all of these views get confused in our heads and all of the things people say and things people think alter the way that you feel and you dont know what to do anymore, you can't believe how much it has actually affected you and how stupid you could have been in your quiet insanity that gnawed guiltily away at the edges of your cortex.
maybe your utterly strange cluster of innapropriately combined vocabularly is entirely necessary and relaxing for you, as well as playing solitaire and escaping in the music it is meditation for you and it calms your darting thoughts, it is just what you like to do. or feel you need to do, to remain semisane.
so things seem to be going slightly better for you and you are looking forward to tomorrow all of the time but hopefully you won't be too engulfed in tomorrow that you sleep away today.
don't believe in mirrors or newspapers, you read.
the lines on your page are starting to wiggle out of control and you love it!
do what you love, things that make you happy, that's what they tell me they tell me at school and i know i wouldn't want to be a fool. who does?

wispy tension

The air
In this place is
Pulled so taut and secured so tightly that
Movement is restricted
Sounds are winced at
Why am I being so careful, so controlled, so confined?

So I just
Hope and
Dream away the seconds

Until you leave.
The air in here
Loosens its belt
And breathes again

sifting through my thoughts

why of touch am so i afraid?
afraid not may the be word right
peut-etre j'ai voulu dire le mot sensitive instead
oui je pense que ca semble beaucoup mieux certainement
sensitive i may be
oui yes siree
well that doesnt explain my complicatory
situation of confrontation
i feel a little bit trapped
in a layer of glad wrap
i can see out all around me
but im not getting anywhere
or feeling anything
nothing reaches me
and my efforts are only meagre
theres some kind of barrier i need to break through
but ill need the help of the people on the other side too
and they know nothing about this
and are probably all trying to get out of their own glad wrap casings
we may not realise that while all this dreaming and hoping is going on
that the only person it's up to
is us.
huh?
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