remember all the rituals i created? one: only ever drink coffee righthanded. (preferably on a monday, whilst wearing purple nail polish) two: only appraise your appearance in a broken mirror. (this way you have to learn to look past flaws) three: you need whimsy. (remember to keep doors unlocked, partially unscrewed: the better to usher in… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 8 (superstition)
NaPoWriMo 7 (tricky)
excavations begin, mining underway. digging deep to find you in the vestiges of old memory. it's trickier than anticipated. these files should be here, somewhere, but they're hard to locate. your indignation at this slight is not necessary. perhaps you should be here somewhere - you are not. eyes faded and voice little more than… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 7 (tricky)
ignore it. if you do so, it will - well, no, it won't go away. it will accrue dust, an interest of memory to be paid. (indemnify? why no, it shan't)
watch here: wipe the dust away, wash clean the glass. wait five minutes. this is how we restore memory. (why wait, after all?)
she watches the room. it's moving slowly, barely even noticeable. sometimes she sees the mirror and each time remembering herself becomes a little more difficult.
best served cold
you steal kindness, tenderness. your words are the catalyst, an unwitting trigger. (steal my kindness and repay me with ice) i am a vengeful creature. i think you should have remembered, before you went trying to take the best of me. (vengeful: plotting for days, weeks) and in the end, i decide - you will… Continue reading best served cold
nothing reminds me of you anymore.
let's freeze this moment in time and pretend we won't forget in five years. --- remembering is reduced to this: one moment trapped under plastic.
free of you
the loops are a constant. try to forget once more and be cursed to remember. whoever said that a good memory was a good thing? try to stop missing you and be trapped into it. when am i ever going to be free of you? try to mend the fences and be stuck hidden away.… Continue reading free of you
it catches me totally unaware. eyes carved from night sky, it is the first yet. hours lost to the study of something that's purely imagined. the second is equally subtle, written in autumn and winter. days now are lost here analyzing things better left alone. last is a favourite memory, by turns wistful and reminiscent.… Continue reading the illusion