Hypnos Blurs Brood

                                      

Concentration has lost all definition since my thoughts went to her,

sleep deprived by constant fictional memories reeling through my head.

I can only daydream of sleep.

Her face blurs into focus as my eyes coat cold by the wind,

I watch her shoes deepen through dirt as she climbs.

I follow until I touch the reaches of the hilltop, grasping her glittered hands with a firm grip. Steady I stand watching her descend through the fields, blossoming each patch of grass. Carefree with every the step.

She flows through my brain eating away my thoughts like an amphetamine. Addiction has never felt so pure, yet I'm not chasing substance.

The breeze of cold air swoops and tussles with her hair. I pretend I'm not observing by faking a sharp stare into an open distance of clouds. My eyes are deeply drawn to her every move. Slowly our hands are clenching grass, souring our palms red with an itch.

This is the deepest into tranquil bliss I'll ever feel. A moment like this makes my living heart decompose with deep desperation for it to stay this way. She sends my state of mind into deep euphoria where everything negative whispers away.

Hands still seeping through torn grass we link, she lays a hand over mine.

Glitter falls from flesh and coats into my palms, I stare.  

Her face sparkles an overwhelming beauty leaving a presence that will stay with me for eternity.

Out of focus, she goes.

Leaning back I sink away, falling out of vision and back into blur.

This memory circulates and spins into a whirlpool of confusion struggling to seek answers..

My leg twitches as my body jolts before hitting the ground.
Suddenly it hits me.

I've slept.

I can no longer daydream of sleep.

Rage beats away at my conscience as I try force myself back into a deep sleep. Chasing what could have been, greedily wanting this to stay eternal.

I hold myself up to the edge of the bed, focusing closer towards the sunlight through corner of my window. Two crows fly by. Circulating each other, weaving in and out as dawn fades. Leaving me feel shallow.

This infectious mind burns thoughts of normality and replaces it with she. She who puts a high tide in my head this dawn, as it washes away this ocean to the depth of its core.

Poppy leaks into it's empty space, for it to never wash away.

How I wish I could sleep forever, as hypnos. Out of reality, to dream of her.
Thoughts cascade into an open well, dilating by each reel.
Taking me away from hypnos, and into brood..
Dreaming blurs away.

LURID

LURID

This is a short piece of writing I done walking home after an intense acid trip. The leaves from the side of the road were glowing, the wind sounded more powerful than it ever was. Earth just made sense, thinking about the creation of everything was mind-blowing. I approached the outside of my house and looked at the clouds, they were morphing into eachother and flying away, just swirling into the distance. It was beautiful, I'd never felt so alive. I'd never felt so happy to be alive either.. looking at my door I turned away. I got the notes up on my phone and proceeded to write from a hilltop, watching the planes blend into the clouds, looking like they're falling. Freely.
So..

Something I wrote after 2 tabs of acid, sorry mom.

..

                                  

Lurid colours bleed,
bleeding vivid and bright

Circulation of colours collide
clouds keep clashing,
and I'm just watching

Sinking within me
blue sinks within me
so if I drown ocean blue,
just bleach me bright

Rain falls as the clouds break the sun
falling into autumn
the day breaks into autumn
sucking chemicals from my tongue

Lurid colours bleed
leaking luminescent
turning back to transparent


As lurid colours bleed..

DESTINATION; DISTORTION

DESTINATION; DISTORTION

                                   

Train stations are so strange. Every destination all over the country is just a chamber of mixed emotional gain or loss.

You're constantly leaving or meeting someone, feeling happiness and excitement on your journey there. But leaving brings you an overwhelming sadness. My mind leaves me demure and isolated at my seat. Watching through the window at repetitive fields. It's funny how you're always on the move but everywhere looks the same.

The vision of the train station sign slides away, I memorise its thick bold text through my strands of hair, blinding my eyesight. I slide my fingers to swoop the parting of my hair and clear my vision. The world is such a strange place. Though my vision is clear I always feel blinded by the world somehow.

I wish I could fabricate a remedy to clear my sight, and smear away the constant filter of visual distortion.

The table seat -

Constant awkward eye contact and never feeling any comfort. It's like you've constantly got a spotlight on you, people judging you by every movement. Sitting quietly just thinking, like the girl opposite me. Who's constantly clacking her boots into my ankle. I'm transparent to her, just another stranger filling in the spaces.

The ignorance of some people make me happy, I hate conversation with strangers.
There's always bad eye contact but for once I've not glanced over.

I catch a glimpse of her reflection in the window. The collision of fields, trees and clouds over Malvern Link pace through the right of her cheek.

My throat tightens and suddenly I'm hit with sickness.
I watch her face clash with the overwhelming beauty of the countryside. Beams of sunlight flash with speed through trees and into our window, forming patterns to slide over her face. I've not looked over once and I know she's a rose.

My eyes magnify her every move with deep observation. Suddenly the window turns black and we're passing through a tunnel. She's caught me, everything bright and open turns bleak and into closure.

The speakers call out the next stop, I've never been so angry at a recorded message.
She tucks her phone into the biggest pocket of her bag and vacates her seat leaving a presence that leaves a man aching at the heart strings.

The way people come and go is one of life's worst assets, if only I'd have said a word to her.

I'd finally have an answer, we could have hit it off in a romanticism you only see in scripts and film reels.
She could have became a friend, maybe more..

I doubt she'd have liked Sonic Youth though.