slowlyunfolding: (written mouth - all the things i want to)
The ideas do happen every now and again to me. Usually they happen in that space in between sleep & waking. I think that explains ... well ... everything that is to follow.

A goodish while ago, I read a poem that Misha had posted on his Twitter. I remember being vaguely somethinged by it, but the feeling was intangible, elusive, persistingly haunting. A couple of weeks ago, I startled awake, scribbled in my notebook that I left on my bedside table & immediately fell back asleep. I swear these words that came tumbling out have been jostling for attention ever since.

Read more... )

Now I feel all exposed and weird.
slowlyunfolding: (Default)
I want to bite down on your bare skin, hard. Keep pressing until I find your secret, make you tell me what it is that you choke back in your throat, clutch in your heart. I see you looking at me sideways, I can feel it. When I pull back I want to see my small imprint in your skin, turning red and later bruising. That way you will remember me.

I can see you going through your house, picking things up, putting them back down, feeling lost and dissatisfied. Also, tired and lonely and bored and quiet. You'll be looking for something that you won't be able to find. I know why you won't find it. It's those words you refuse to say, yet clutch so hard your knuckles are white.

I sense you want to protect me, wrap yourself around me to ward off evil and bandage my wounds. I'd let you, but it would involve trumpets, red eyed elves capering, and the word of trees to allow such a thing. One day, this day, the other day, this might have happened.
slowlyunfolding: (Default)
I did this [ ] today and then decided it was [insert adjective here] so I [ ] interest.

I felt [ ] and wondered

The other night I almost signed into [ ] although I knew you wouldn't be [ ].
Or were you? Waiting for me for a change. Unlikely. A dream-wish that would
gain me [ ].

I don't want to run into those [ ] [ ] [ ] children that haven't lived. Perhaps one day
I'll understand their arrogance and they'll understand my [ ] and why I was [ ].

I've been forgotten by [ ]. It would happen over a course of time, seen as a necessary evil, by [ ] and [ ]. There is no way to recall me or make me [ ] you again.

You knew what you were doing when [ ] and that [ ] me.

You're not so [ ] when things got real or maybe you were [ ] of being [ ].

I still [ ] you.
I hope you're [ ].
I'm much [ ], thank you."


slowlyunfolding: (Default)

January 2015



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