SingingI like to sing.Singing
I like singing because when I do sing it's like my voice fills me up. I am not longer empty inside; my lungs aren't deflated and my heart isn't vacant anymore. I am no longer hollow but full up, ready to burst. My voice sends vibrations down my throat and into the rest of my body. The tremors echo around until they reach the end of my toes and the tips of my fingers, then they echo back. The notes bounce off of my ribcage and ricochet through my veins: I no longer have blood, but music. The words spill out my mouth and hang around my head. They stick in my brain and sound in my ears over and over. The sound spread
On Bad DaysOn bad days I really try to help myself. I spend hours in a frenzy of fantasy. I shut myself away in room and close the curtains and blinds, so it's like day and night don't exist and I'm in my own timeless reality. I turn my photos upside down so no one can see me and I put a pillow in front of my door too. I go through rainforests of paper and packets of pens as I spill my secrets out onto sheets. I make brainstorms and lists as I try and clear my head. I write names over and over, adjectives and nouns and verbs as well. I write memories down, and the future too. I draw pictures of the things I can't put into words, and I write paragraphs aOn Bad Days
WishingWhen I was a kid and it was the weekend, I'd wake up but I'd keep my eyes shut. I'd register my consciousness yet choose to simulate sleep. I'd close my eyes tight so the skin around wrinkled and for a moment I'd hold my breath. I wouldn't move a muscle in my body, even if they position I was in was uncomfortable. Behind my eyes I could see red twisting and turning as the morning light came through my window and hit my face. I'd lie there, perfectly still, in my own little moment. And I would wish.Wishing
I'd wish that when I moved my feet I'd feel silk instead of cotton. If I moved my fingers, they wouldn't brush against scratchy pyjam
New York CityWhen the sun rises over New York City at on a wintry December morning, I want to watch it happen.New York City
I want to be in the penthouse suite of a skyscraper staring out of a wall made of window in my underwear and a t-shirt and watch the sun rise.
I want to drink a cup of boiling hot tea and curl my toes in slipper socks as I watch the first few rays of orange peek over the horizon.
I want to scratch at my tangled hair as I catch a glimpse of the sun rising into the sky and casting long shadows across the city.
I want to catch crumbs of toast and jam on my cracked morning lips as I gaze upon the ci
Apr09I met you in the ocean, while I was trying to be a mermaid, Africa to my right and the Caribbean to my left. I was heading for Iceland, I'd heard the siren's songs are especially beautiful there.Apr09
You were a submarine, with the fluffiest duvets, & English shortbread & milk inside. You were heading for Hollywood, you'd heard the stars shine brighter than diamonds there.
You abandoned your plans, just for a little while, to chase after me through fields of seaweed, & watch me build underwater sandcastles for the most exquisite kinds of fish. &
Splash 'em words out.Naivety and being stubborn, I swing with what I've got, the days where I believed that the world was only my ashtray. I generated another view, perspective's have changed. I wake to a semi smiling face, self esteem is positioned safely.Splash 'em words out.
The elders are proud, and anger is only an outburst of silly occasions. Permanent warmth, et ma vie est en rose.
I assume everything must go positively, and I thought another part was too, but that's my naivety, I only see/ hear about the front. If only I could pass the barrier, and listen, and talk, maybe play a game. I can only ask for
I'm rubbish at talking about myself and I've rewritten this 4857349857604987 times, so if you want to know anything, just ask  Peace out kids |
First!
Nervous
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- Thus saith the Person.
Invisible People are to be killed on sight!
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You got served.
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- Thus saith the Person.
Invisible People are to be killed on sight!
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You got served.
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We're not in wonderland anymore, Alice.
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You got served.
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