the sea inside.

Eyes open,

Mind closed.

Encased in water

She slides down the side of the tub;

Submerging her body.

The tap drips,

Piercing the water;

Tidal waves form in her brain,

Disrupting thoughts,

Distorting memories.

The sound of outside is muffled;

Not silent,

But she prefers it.

She lifts her head,

Takes a breath,

The sea inside her silences,

The world pierces.

 

She retreats;

Body submerged.

Mind open,

Eyes closed.

swallowed.

I am swallowed by the void;

The inevitable darkness,

Empty yet full.

I like it.

I like it when I lay on wet grass with eyes closed and listen to the silenced world around me;

Only the wind speaks.

I like it when I’m outside and stare up at the stars longing for answers;

Even if I haven’t asked.

I like it when it’s so dark that I don’t know whether my eyes are open or closed.


Less swallowed;

Whole,

By a crocodile with its prey,

More embraced;

By a old friend,

With arms and body’s intertwined.

that fuzzy night of your hands and my body.

Under the cold water i lather my hands with soap;

I want to wash you away,

Away from my hands and my face and my body 

But memories of that night are tattooed on my mind,

Like your hands are underneath my skin.

 

I want to forget that night;

Forget how i hardly opened my eyes,

Or how my body was paralysed with alcohol,

Or how i was your puppet and you the puppeteer.

 

But everything i do reminds me of that night with you.

cobra.

Imagine a rope with no beginning or end in my head,

Squeezing at my brain and all the thoughts that are sat inside.

I try to untangle the mess,

But even my best efforts aren’t good enough.

My fingertips slip between string that i try so hard to grasp at.

I constantly try to work out this puzzle

But i can’t even fathom how to fix this mess.

While learning how the rope works and trying to untangle it

I try to make it look like i’m not trying at all;

Nobody has to know how restricting the rope is

Af if a cobra.

I know more hands would make the mess easier to clear,

But that would mean having to explain how the rope got so tangled,

And how can you explain something you don’t know the answer to?

who are you?

I don’t know who you are,

You look like you’ve got a shop full of masks

Neatly arranged inside your head,

So you can easily pick out the right one.

You look like you’re wrapped in layers and layers of different fabric;

Each hand crafted to suit someone else.

I want to know the real you;

I don’t want you to feel like you have to put on a mask for me,

I don’t want you to feel like you have to wrap yourself in layers and layers of fabric;

As if hiding from me.

But how can i complain,

When i’m doing exactly the same?

 

I’m almost suffocating,

And I can’t breathe,

But i can’t stop.