Friday, April 10, 2009

Get back to where you came from.

Everytime you blink, you miss something.
You're too focused on one thing to focus on it all, bring back your eyes and look firmly at the full picture. It's beautiful, isn't it?
No. The little details are what makes it so pretty, but forget them, and look. Her face is painted in shades of blue, and her hair is tinged with purple, like the berries on your way to work every morning.
2PM, and you're alone, you should be at work, but you called in sick so you could get sick. Drinking again? The phone keeps ringing, and they want you to come visit them, but you're suddenly too tired to even answer the phone, let it ring out.
You know you can't stay here long, he said you needed to get a job, and you did, but you're not going. You can use it as an excuse as to why you can't be fucked seeing your friends anymore.
They're not friends.
Don't feel bad, he/she called my friends idiots.
Long line.
It's coming down, because you can't write pretty, or poetic, or intelligent, or original. Or even as yourself, for who are you?

Get back to ward 23.

The air smells like cherry apple, but only if you tilt your head and smile. If you frown, it smells like oil.

What are you doing this for?
You don't actually have anything to write. It's like, youre trying to get something onto the page that isn't a part of you.

Get back to ward 23.


And it was never easy, but not as hard as you'd hope. Isn't there comfort in trial?
I finally agreed, and when I did, you disagreed.
So I'll work again for myself.


  1. This would be okay, if you'd left out all the weird, bitter comments. You can't help yourself, can you?