Home alone.

The house is open. It smells of honey and sunshine. The jarrah floors glow with warmth. There is silence except for the breeze, a breath of sunlight in winter. Dust waltzes slowly through the air. Dappled light bounces off the blinds, glinting white and alive off the leather, the wood, the cotton. The ageing pages of a well-read book are lit in vertical stripes, the pages further yellowed by the sunlight. Sunday laziness smothers the house like a blanket.

Charming.

Fighting to escape your charm,
It’s a locket shackling my heart,
I’m caught fast in confusion,
You’ve broken in and made it clear,

Chained with the iron of willpower,
My will, I cannot defeat,
I cannot shift your hold on me,
Nor have I the key,

Your heart is hidden,
Deceived,
You’ve stolen mine,
Thieved.

Today.

I am...

tired, exhausted, sleepy, brain-dead, sluggish, fatigued, rundown, drowsy

I have been listening to the same album on repeat, all day...

down, fire, do you remember, love like this (eternity), do you, war, if i ain't got you, far away, stuck in the middle, lights off, candle light

I have...

written over 1000 words, made 7 tables, created 1 graph

It is...

that time of the year.

EXAMS.

Some more words.

"Yeah you, must have a lot of spare time,

To put down the words that you write,

But no one cares,

You should put your mind to rest..."

- Kisschasy

Yeah sometimes, I wish I could put my mind to rest.

Decisions.

The decisions that make you stop breathing in the moment you decide.

The way your head gets suddenly dizzy.

Which way's right and which is wrong? Does either exist? Neither?

It's all decisions.

They're all just thoughts and words until they're actions.

And I can't fill my lungs properly 'til then.

I hope I've chosen right.

I know I've chosen right.

Just I don't want to admit it because it hurts.

To breathe.

Watching.

Spinning, spinning, spinning,
Head a mass of thoughts,
Yet so alone,

Turning, turning, turning,
Feel a presence there,
Wish it were real,

Stare up at the sky,
Thinking of you,
Wondering if you’re staring too,

When I leave,
I’ll look at the sky,
Just in case you’re watching too.

You were supposed to catch me.

I hate that I've fallen for you,
Except that I've loved every second since I have,
I hate that I can't have you,
Except I love that you have time for me anyway,

I think you must be bad at sports,
Or your hand-eye co-ordination is out,
You know you were meant to catch me,
Right? Play the game,

So I'm falling,
But I think it's okay,
Because I'm learning how to fly.

I don't wanna care right now.

Some stream of consciousness-type writing that I did one day, on a real downer about life, with the lyrics to I Don't Wanna Care Right Now by Lupe Fiasco stuck in my head...

i don't wanna care right now i really don't i just want to worry about me and get all these other people's problems out of my head because if i really think about it i think if it was just me in my head i wouldn't have any problems and i'm really sick of all these tears hiding away and waiting to bring me crashing down really really really i just want to not care and for god's sake go away and stop talking so loud i just wanna care about me there's so much room here and you're crowding up my head where i tell you there's not much space at all in fact there's none so get the fuck out leave i think i'd like to be a tree and just watch the world go by and know there's actually nothing i can do but sit back and watch instead i've convinced myself that i can do something and so i stress and try not to cry and forget my train of thought i'm forgetting how to breathe again stop this stop this stop this and breathe i wish life was as easy as spewing these words out of my head it's not meant to be this hard i swear.

The night is still.

It is one am - again - and her eyes are open. The night is different; the night is still. Of flickers with no form and phantoms with no faces, there are none. It is his face stamped in her mind and teasing her vision. She wonders if perhaps he will appear to right her, to tell her that before was all a dream - or a nightmare - and to remind her of reality. He is her reality. Or so she dreams. He is the ghost that haunts her darkness. The elusive smile in her light.

you're like the dream i can have with my eyes open

exactly how i imagine you would be if i dreamt you to life

with you, i'm not afraid to close my eyes and let go

in my dreams, you always catch me in time

The words mean nothing, for they make no sense to anyone except her and certainly never to him. She dreams on.

The night is ice.

It is one am and she is seeing things. Snatches and blurs of motion and darkness in the corner. Real things? Chills creep over her limbs to freeze her in place. They wend their way up to her hairline, a cold pinprick in every pore of her skin. She clenches her locked fingers into fists and tells herself it is not that cold. This is a lie. The night is ice. Another flash at the border of her vision. She tells herself to go to bed, to go to sleep. How to sleep at this time? The time to fall into dreams is long gone. Nightmares threaten in the back of her mind, just daring her to close her eyes. Surrender, they whisper. She shakes her head. Perhaps her movements will cancel the phantoms, destroy the ghosts. But the truth is, she is alone. And the night is loneliness personified. The dark and the silence. The razor edge of something just out of reach and endless. The abyss. She shivers. Her eyes close and she sees nothing.

Inspiration strikes!

After having writer's block on a short story I am writing for a friend for months and months...I have finally struck inspiration! In the form of a dream. So, hopefully there will be less of these little poems being written and more in the form of prose. If anything gets done in the near future (considering how many uni assignments I am meant to be writing instead), you will see it here :)