Tag Archives: muse

Rearranged rota to suit their needs but when you try to gain your rightful time back all eyes accuse of laziness, taking advantage, not worthy of that reward.

A dismissive comment confirming you weren’t needed for the one skill you have that no one else does. They’d rather take a chance and send it anyway than bother asking for your help. Is this the beginning of not being wanted?

Betrayed by one nestled on your arm for so long, whispering doubts and suggestions that influenced everything you believed. Everything you wanted to be. Is it wrong to still want it? Or must you change all you know because it proved false.

Time is everything to create the perfect loaf, to arrive when you’re needed, to be what you’re supposed to be. If you’re disjointed you’re forever a disappointment, lazy, wasting your life. Perhaps time is the true God, unrelenting, unforgiving, unknowing of how it effects us mere mortals. Not caring.

Good Friday, a day to panic buy all the bread and cakes, ready for a picnic that will be ruined with rain and grumbling, as always, but which is never expected. Ask for later dates we can’t provide because they don’t exist yet and express disgust at the one day everything will be closed, becomingContinue reading “23:76”

Finger rolls, bread that names itself wanting you to imagine cannibalism as you slice it open, butter its insides and consume its soul, without even contemplating whose fingers you are devouring.

C and T decorated with two lines that announce your illness of a disease that almost broke the world but now is an annoying inconvenience, not even worthy of a day off or extra caution.

Frozen presence forces us to stand still, breathe, witness, wait until heat can melt away the stillness. A moment to stop, whether we have time to or not.

Rehearsing words and accusations, finding the perfect balance of stern but respectful. Over and over it circles in your head, unable to sleep, so that when the time comes to act you’re too exhausted to try anymore.