“I wish we’d fit the picture frame”, were words whispered onto a window covered in rain drops.
And if so,
would these hands still play with ebony hair?
Would there be arms to hold onto, strong but fragile?
Fragile in the end, but holding on,
although her shoulders escape the neckline of her dress?
The picture frame?
“If we’d fit the picture frame …” was a sigh into a purple shade of sky.
Would there still be bonfire flavoured kisses?
Would hair be admired?
Taken by the wind?
Blown into chaos?
Blown out of the picture frame?
“But if we’d fit the picture frame,
would I still be safe in those softest eyes?
Would you able to imagine our life?
Without blurring out?
Without losing focus?” , were questions for the storm.
“You’re so adorable, but I have not need for you”, was a truth spilled into a Caramel Latte.
Life tends to fly by
frame after frame
in well-known images
imagined and pictured.
“I admire you, but I can’t fit you anywhere”, was a truth to drown in a bottle of wine.
Being seen
meant fitting in those frames
that never fit them
or anything they touched.
“If we’d fit the picture frame, it would not have been us”, were words for night to fall.
The latest Dystopia confusion – or what vaccines, glasses, and sunscreen suddenly have in common.
Confusion is one of the most important aspects of Dystopia. It’s this state of the world that keeps burning into the skin like a nervous flickering – and suddenly you’ve bought frog legs from the weirdo at the end of the road, while your neighbour was hanged for a miscarriage 20 years ago. Let’s name…
Keeping the connection – About taking the next step
I remember standing on the same field where I spent most of the past unnerving months. Listening to the same three accords throughout a song reminded me of time passing, of the feeling of spending time with people while doing something special together. Studying for an exam, rehearsing a song, going on a trip -…
Of memories and ashes
Once you were thereTwo minutes afterWith coffee and rainI will rememberThe way that we wereThe world has felt whole. Once we were thereIt was a ThursdayWith tea and a smileI will always rememberIt made me forgetThat the world has got holes. I want this to beThe one thingTo hold on toTo fill up the holesWe…
Mistress witch writes 