Sometimes she catches her thoughts

My writing blog. I plan to have artwork here too, but I'm lazy when I comes to uploading photos. :)

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

He hadn’t asked for the air in my lungs, but I’d given it to him along with all the other things he didn't need from me.

I was too much. [herthoughtsarecaught]

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

23.58

You can never quite rid yourself

of the things

Scratching

on the inside of your skull

Supposing the bone was less thick,

they might have broken through already

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

23:10

He is always looking at your lips

(for obvious reasons). But

he will only go as far

as you let him.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

An apology (of sorts)

I’m sorry that everything I do is half-hearted.

I can barely muster up the courage

to fully be

myself.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

Pull yourself together, now.

She wonders if she’s all here.

She feels as though a part of her is 

floating, somewhere out there.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

She is here

She trudges through the day into the dusk

where she lays, half awake

until the moon appears in the window.

It is 3am and she is happy here.

This is where she finds herself.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

Time travel

I popped out for a moment

And returned to see her lying on the floor,

staring into space.

I had only been gone for a few minutes,

Yet her mind had travelled for days.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

Fear holds you back, sometimes

Waiting for things to change 

(instead of making the changes).

Afraid of what will happen

when they do.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

Maybe the place matters

I was sitting in a supermarket car park

when I deemed myself  a failure.

And I cried

because it felt like the truth.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

Virgin heart

Her heart bears no scars. She has not yet lived enough to love deeply. She does not know what it means to lie on a bed of roses, full of thorns.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

>.<

I haven’t posted on here in over two weeks.

Sorry! (last post is v. relevant, now)

I went through a ‘dip’, so my nonchalance became demotivation. I struggle to see my future, so it’s really hard for me to get stuff done as it doesn’t feel like I’m working towards anything.

Last week I met up with someone  for a chat about looking for work, etc and I’ve been set a number of creative tasks to do by the end of June. I was never one for getting things done early, so a bulk of it will probably be done in May. >.< Anyway, hopefully that means I’ll get more poetry and stuff done, but I will have that stuff and what I post on here separate. So I’ll need to decide what goes where. This is slow-going, I know. Check in on me in a few weeks. I might have gotten myself together by then.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

We will always be sorry for something.

herthoughtsarecaught

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

This space has been taken

She was engaged long before you slid that ring on her finger.

For the longest time her mind had failed to be vacant,

because it was full, full, full of you.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

A painting I did last week. I’m not really sure what it’s about. It started off as one thing and ended up looking like some elemental piece. Hmm.

Sorry the lighting is so bad. I’ll try to upload a better version.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

I am not a wordsmith, but

I am trying to give you meaning. Let’s allude to some long-ago event in your life, and disguise it with wild words and a catastrophe like a car crash or something.   I am going to type you out in fancy letters, increase your font and make you multicoloured. But leave out the punctuation because once you arrive at a stop I’ll never get you going again.   Perhaps you could be formed better in craftier hands belonging to somebody else, that can make something out of nothing. I am not a people-smith.   I am thinking the padding I used might suffocate you. You are too trivial to be anyone’s significant other, with your voice only ever being halfway to singing and your skin thinning towards translucence.

Another one from when I was at uni.

Oh, I wanna write poetry like this again.

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

She’s just a bit sick

It starts somewhere between her chin and her chest, then it’s all in her head; a thick fog that makes her brain feel as though it’s floating but her body stays like lead.   She stands, almost still but for the swaying, as if such a wind that would knock her over could ever blow indoors. Her words are only half coherent so she swallows them. Her swollen throat bleeds with the effort.   She burns.   Her sleep and dreams are fragmented. She turns and there is no feeling in her fingers.   She moves them to wake them up. They are the only parts of her that are moving.  

*coughs*    >.<

[herthoughtsarecaught-blog]

Hey guys, I’ll post another poem tomorrow. Maybe two. Sorry again for being so slow, I’m currently fighting tonsillitis (well, the awful cough it’s turned into) and the inability to get much done that comes with the frustration of looking for a job. 

Look forward to it/them. :)