Finch 🌻

~ knock on the hen house for friends ~

[finchiebird]

Here, here is eternity. The feeling of the January sun warming my eyelids as I sit eyes closed, face to the sun. When I blink, the shine of the sun on the water almost blinds me. There’s a cormorant on the log just a bit to the left, wings spread wide to dry. Just me and the cormorant on the muddy river beach, with all of the time in the world.

[finchiebird]

City Student Aesthetic: Saturday edition

The tinny in your hand feels heavier with each passing second but time speeds up with every breath that passes painted lips. The crowd is too thick too see through, your feet haven’t touched the floor for 20 minutes. You’ve forgotten what breathing tastes like. There’s a girl on the floor in the middle of the mosh pit, no one else can see her. You like her shirt. The smell of the chippy, sounds of stomachs rumbling; there’s a girl on the floor in the chippy. You think everyone can see her but no one cares. Eyes wide as you try to sleep. Why is no one else awake? The world is spinning. Spinning. Spinning.

[finchiebird]

Student Aesthetic: Spring Edition

Let go, darling. The sun is peeking through the blinds; and for the first time in months you actually want to get out of bed. It’s going to be all Rosy cheeks and risky grins at strangers. Dancing with a stranger in a club. Petals will fly across the city, propelled by the bracing wind, notes written in cursive flying after them. Let go, darling, let it all float away. Salute the magpie to show respect (just like your father does). The haze in the air makes the city feel closer, safer. Run through the park so fast that you’re racing life it’s self, damp grass beneath your feet. Let it all go, darling. Rest and be at peace.

[finchiebird]

March Vibe: 5.19 am edition 

The world is spinning, you can’t even feel the burn of the zoot as you toke it. Cold concrete and even colder hearts. Her eyes see through you. There’s a boy in your bed, you can’t remember his name. The lights flash even though they’re turned off. Notes written in a code that only you understand and an aching heartbeat that only you can feel. Early morning bird song lightens your soul and you forget deadlines and dramas as the dawn fog begins to form. The city sleeps around you and you feel peace for the first time in weeks.

[finchiebird]

A city

I’ve been to a city that never sleeps, and where dreams go to die. Where the trees seem to stand roots up and the shades of grey blend into one. I’ve seen a city where girls walk with knives, knuckle dusters and pepper spray; clutched in hands so tightly that knuckles turn white. It’s a city where to be fully sober is a sin, as it makes you see it how it is. All wonky paving stones and ill intentions. I’ve known a city where every Wednesday night the rugby team throw all the bins they can get their hands on across the street, and where a girl with her beer goggles on makes another bad decision. The city never sleeps because it’s too jacked up on all the crack in the sewers, because the monsters that live in it keep it up all night. The city feeds on what lives in it; a cycle of self indulgence and cannibalism. A city that seeps into your bones and never lets you go.

[finchiebird]

English Country Side Gothic: Autumn Edition

You can hear leaves crunching underfoot somewhere in the trees behind you. When you turn no one is there. As you sit beside the river, you feel a gentle hand brush your shoulder - warm and human. When you turn no one is there. The people you do see - all young and beautiful and feral. Mud stained jeans and once white shoes. Windswept hair and flushed cheeks - they run past without stopping. They do not see you. Their eyes are dead. You see them again later - it’s dark now. The stars are disappearing one by one. They dance, chanting, around a bonfire on the beach. The air tastes like wet leaves and ash. Their eyes are dead.

[finchiebird]

Student Aesthetic: November

Putting in layers and layers of clothing for the walk only to be too hot when you enter your class. Sitting on the roof at 5am, watching the city lights blink on and off - far too much light pollution for stars. Behind on lectures, messy notes in no particular order. Smoking so much green that you can’t form a coherent thought. Falling into a bed full of pillows and blankets. Cups of tea that make glasses steam up and warm freezing fingers.

[finchiebird]

Student Aesthetic: October

The cold starts to set into your bones and the rain never stops falling. Your feet are always damp. The bass line of a vibrating speaker and flashing LEDs in someone’s kitchen. When was the last time you were sober? Christmas decorations in every shop but the streets are covered in smashed pumpkin. Huddled under a blanket with six people on a four seater sofa. Cursive notes written in red ink and cold fingers tracing your spine.

[finchiebird]

Grapefruit is the June fruit, with bitterness in excess and a sting that lingers,

Bite it like you bit into me and watch the acid juice run like blood

[finchiebird]

Student aesthetic: January

The days blur into one, modaytuesdaywednesday - there’s pills in your coffee - thursdayfridaysaturday . Pages of unread notes and sloppy cursive in smudged blue ink. Muddy boots making muddy footprints. The woods are calling despite the cold. There’s pills in your coffee. The way water droplets freeze on spiderwebs and a concentration so deep you can’t be drawn away. Classical music and reading murder mysteries by candle light.

[finchiebird]

I stood with a girl once,

On a rock at the top of a hill,

The wind was blowing so hard that it whipped her words away;

But I know what she said

‘Don’t you feel like we exist now’

And the universe was centred around us

And it spun out of its axis

As we

Kissed

[finchiebird]

Everyone always says that home has a heart beat,

But they all seem to forget that it should be your own

[finchiebird]

I think ur pretty rad

[finchiebird]

Student Aesthetic: July

Eyes a little too bright and cheeks a little too flushed. Manic. Lighter bubbles up from you chest, you couldn’t stop it if you tried. Horror films and flashing lights. Running through the woods late at night, smiles too wide to be sober smiles. Words blur together on the page, these words aren’t real. Reality changes beneith your feet and the world moves around you.

[finchiebird]

Student Aethetic: June

Freedom from the shackles of a timetable. Free from stress. Clouded skies and heavy rain showers. The sound of each raindrop on the tin roof. Smoke filled lungs and hallow chest cavities. Hazy visions of a god you can’t quite see. Worship. Waterside bonfires and the chirp of birds as the sun rises. Stumbling home at dawn and sinking into bed. Dedication. A forest fire fills the empty space.

[finchiebird]

On our future:

I told you that all I wanted was a bee hive,

We’d make honey in our home, and dress the walls with snapshots of our lives,

We’d dance in the late summer sun as the bees hummed around us, they’d pollinate our love so even in winter we may have something delicious.

Yes, I wanted a bee hive.

But mostly I just wanted you.

[finchiebird]

i grew up being told that my handwriting was meant for love letters,

light cursive, a breath of emerald ink

the government drafted me to write about every terrible thing,

every disaster and every evil,

so that someone, somewhere may read it and feel just

a little bit more love in their hearts

and maybe, just maybe,

they may write a love letter too.