Late Night Muse

Writing blog

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i feel like i live my moments, my whole life, between those anxious moments when you’re wondering if someone’s unlocking the front door. it’s such an immense panic, because is it the neighbors, or is it something more sinister, and then suddenly its a flash back to that noisy room, so high up from them rest of the world, i am fueled solely by cigarette butts and the eternal fear of failure. of the inability to achieve my true potential. my whole life is lived between those heart beats, those stomach dropping heart beats, when you hear a key unlocking a front door.

a quiet house // a.j.b

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You have, 3, new voicemails, New voice mail received at 3:45 on the 23rd of April from, “Ashley”: “Hey babe, was wondering where you’d gone. I saw the moon was high so I assumed you went for tea. Look I’m feeding the dog but feel free to come walk her with me. Lord knows you’ve been in the clouds lately.”: If you would like to save this message, press 1 If you would like to reply the message, press 2 If you would like to delete this messag- …3

123 // a.j.b

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Breathe. Like a wave or a cloud, breathe with Mother Earth in your lungs. All will be better. All will be well.

breath of fresh air // a.j.b

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i. I tried to find you. Through pills and bottles, I waded for hours, attempting to break over to your side. It is a pain I would suffer from a thousand times over, just so I could see your face again. God I miss you, less like an ache, and more like I am becoming a sinkhole of despair. My time is spent with red finger tips and scarred arms and I only find peace in my pipedreams, alone and away from the whole world. My love, oh how I long for you. My hands shake because they know they can never touch yours again. My lungs fail because they know they will never feel your breath again. Oh my darling, I have tried to wage wars against every part of my body so I might find you once more. You are not only my better half, you are all of me. You are the breath that whistles through my throat, you are the bandages that stop my bleeding, you are the medicine that repairs my liver when I have attempted to leave it in disarray. I hate that you left me, alone and weak because I can’t handle this much longer.  Please, please, please, write back to me.  ii. My girl, my Angel, my saviour, you do not wish to be here. What you wish is for the comfort of that beep, beep, beep of a hospital bed, the cleanliness that you know your soul cannot achieve. Please don’t try to reach me, it hurts me to know you are so sad. This is not a place for a mind like your own, it is too small and too strange to permit something as wonderful as yourself. Find your comfort in other things, in men and music and maybe some mistakes, but this place will only poison a creator like yourself. It is for the weak and cowardice, it is everything you are not, my queen. You cannot reduce yourself to fit into my idea because there is far too much of yourself that tries to bloom, you cannot kill yourself fast enough and my word, am I glad of it. Our realities are different, and while every day I long for you, I would not subject your world to that longing for my own selfishness.  So please, my girl, my Angel, my saviour, do not reach me in anything but dreams.  I hope that you write back to me soon. 

letters to my ghost; pt. 3 // a.j.b

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if souls could sing yours would sound like the ocean not the free and wild thingno  yours would sound like the crashing of waves against a rocky shore of the echoing drip of spray within caves the exclamation of adults slipping the laughter of children your soul would sing to me of wrecked ships of bloated corpses of secrets within reefs a hidden treasure and of a darkness so profound not even sky knows it

sing to me // a.j.b

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they are the others. they cannot sing like us breathe like us live as we do they are too cold too warm they move too much they stand much too still oh and do their hands burn when they grasp at our words my do their fingers singe our lips they are the others the difference the inbetween

alejandro // a.j.b

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I will burn out my own eyes, allow you to consume them, so we might have hope, faith, certainty.

dear seer // a.j.b

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We are filled with forests, They may burn us down, But we will grow,  We are the patient ones,  In the end, it is only us, And silence.

vines and leaves // a.j.b

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The whole world is falling out of my chest

cough cough // a.j.b

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Her every word, every utterance, every single movement was poetry But God she was a tragedy.  You could watch her burn herself inside out, charring away her insecurities to create something so beautiful. She looked like an embering building, slowly smoldering herself into oblivion and Lord I'd never seen anything so marvellous. It was the grace of a falling angel, so terrible and disastrous, that you couldn't help but admire it.  In the end, once she was gone, you spent your days wondering at the scorch marks she left where ever she touched, and in the end, those imperfections were all that remained of her. 

on fire // a.j.b

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You never looked good during the day.

night owls // a.j.b

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when i die, bury me in the sea so i might achieve the freedom i myself could never see

a death so much better than me // a.j.b

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Why, I’ll put you on my highest shelf, Where hopefully I can’t reach anymore.

10:09 // a.j.b

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she wished for a love like religion: praising hands and a devotion known only among the insane and the faithful, and while she knelt for him, worshiping him in the only way she knew, she recalled how the bible burned all on sacrificial pyres. and so, when their love burned, dripping from their hearts like blood set on fire; she finally found that she no longer belonged with the scuffed knees of the religious. but rather, on the thrones of the gods themselves.

 my arent our gods good // a.j.b

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i was a dream as sweet as wine, a memory, so gentle, that you never quite realized what i did to you, it was with kisses and whispered words; i disassembled everything about you, with pillows beneath your head, i contradicted everything you knew,  i was your melody for turmoil, your drug of confusion and i made you doubt everything in life. and now you’re half a person, blown astray in the rain, while i watch you get washed away

 pay back // a.j.b

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The wind weeps for my soul; storms have conquered me.

 so much rain // a.j.b

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She is hungry and so she is dangerous. She mouths for the things that as a woman she cannot have. Her lungs burn with screams against everything they stand for, and she finds herself between those men and her monsters. It’s undeniable that she bleeds and she bleeds and she bleeds and you never understood because how could you when she’s a wild woman in a petticoat, and her hair never fit into braids. She swallowed her own arrows because men told her she wasn’t allowed to hunt anymore; now she just spits blood and poison at you while you insult her in a way that you can’t even see. And oh God, isn’t she beautiful, she can never understand, just how you can’t, that a woman who embodies a huntress is so magnificent in a room full of prey.

 wolf among sheep // a.j.b