Hoard the rare
but watch
the one you share it with
freely give it away,
ignoring the pain endured
to achieve it,
yet expecting you
to repeat the process
over and over
while they benefit
from other people’s gratitude.
Fiction and poetry writing, recapturing the muse.
Hoard the rare
but watch
the one you share it with
freely give it away,
ignoring the pain endured
to achieve it,
yet expecting you
to repeat the process
over and over
while they benefit
from other people’s gratitude.
Built in expectations
drive you to perfection,
hard work done
but already mess has appeared,
ignored by others
who deem it beneath them,
only noticing for annoyance
you have yet to
expel their imperfections.
Frustrate to cleanliness,
scrub and scrub
as resentment simmers ,
anger filling the space
while everything else
becomes more beautiful,
you are left with perfection
but only have tired defeat
as a reward.
A few days of indulgence,
relaxing,
forgetting,
ends with renewed chaos
for consuming,
owning,
filling a hole
someone might notice
if you stop
for a moment more.
Remember a world
created and waiting,
buried in a notebook
that hopes to widen,
if only you could
understand how
to unlock
what once was so easy
to unleash.
Present the new
and intrigue destruction,
adding to the debris
of childhood
and moving forward,
closer,
to appreciation
of the materialistic.
Christmas breakfast
for those who spend
too many early hours
together,
a work bond of necessity
that grew into genuine like,
toast their health and happiness,
praying it will
bring some for you too,
a longer permanent place
amongst the flour coated
atmosphere.
A limb moves
while the owner sleeps,
another presence
testing their will
in a foreign body,
opening eyes
to gaze at another’s life
and slowly plan
how to make it theirs.
A presence frosts
in their mind,
slowly creeping
and freezing previous memories,
coating them with
crystal moments
that melt to spread
in the crooks
of their personality,
drowning any beneath
without even corpses
to float to the surface.
A spark of flame
releases heat
and a dying wish,
evaporating into the air
but clinging onto
the intake of breath,
entering a life
and settling,
waiting
to take over.
(Still brewing The Matchstick Girl idea. I think I have a basic concept now, just not a lot of time to focus on it yet, hence the little extracts instead.)