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.
24:360
Present the new
and intrigue destruction,
adding to the debris
of childhood
and moving forward,
closer,
to appreciation
of the materialistic.
24:359
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.
24:358
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.
24:357
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.
24:356
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.)
24:355
Numb fingers begin to tingle,
released from sopping wool
and touching heated air,
a welcome pain of feeling
to remind they function
and long to return
to purpose.
24:354
Discarded matchstick
coated in ice,
rescued from emtombment
by the desperate,
waiting for it to thaw,
for the day it can
fulfil its purpose,
not realising there’s a soul
waiting inside,
ready to be ignited.
24:353
Disrupt an already chaotic time
with valid needs,
but still a wash of resentment
descends and settles,
cloaking a heart ugly
and plunging love
further from reach.
24:352
Always flying, never free
flapping and hoping
for a real destination
but floating stationary
watching those walking below
leave and live on.
Scribbled Thoughts 