Frequency

It does weird things to my head, this song. My ear seems to hone in to something that shouldn't be there. Perhaps, it is a message, a hidden frequency meant for only those who are in tune with it, with the sound.

Long shadows lure you in...

It is neither pleasant nor unpleasant but no instrument nor voice could make it. My ears strain each time they try to hear, as if it isn't there and it's only my imagination. And what if it is?

The more you look the less you see...

Pursed lips and a furrowed brow, face like a raisin lacking in colour - what a picture. But it's still there, that sound.

So close your eyes and start to breathe...

Ah! The song alters, slips into its ending with a change - the sound is gone. The hidden frequency. And I'm in tune.

Friendship

Fast friends, that's what you could call us. There was a certain pull that drew me to you, I needed to come to you. And I did. You were always so accommodating that I couldn't help but stagger back to you. You opened yourself to me and I you. You didn't care how my hair looked or that I wasn't properly dressed, you just waited. You're loyal - I can't imagine you being so with anyone else but I know you could, your kindness is boundless. You ask for nothing but I know I must pay you back some how, you don't refuse me when I do, you just wait until I'm finished. I can't help but feel you smile afterwards, you appreciate everything. You're truly self-less. A true, loyal, ever-giving friend. Cherished and loved.

It's a shame you're a sink.

Mirrors

I stole your face and put it on the mirror. It was the only way, the only way I could keep you. But now, every time I try to see myself, your face engulfs mine and fixes itself in that knowing expression. I try to tell you that it couldn't be helped, that I had to. But you don't listen. Your face stays and stares and I can't look at it anymore.

I covered them all, every single one. Even the windows. Just so you can't get to me. I know you want to. But I won't let you. I should never have taken your face and now you punish me, you follow my steps and giggle at my wandering thoughts.

You're still there. Even though I put the rest of you far away, I hid you. But still, you come at me, without your face. I point you to the mirror. But you can't see it. You have no eyes.

I suppose you just want to be with your face, on the mirror. So I'll put you up there. Piece by piece.

Pulse

Close your eyes and dive, the pulse is all you know and all you feel and all you hear. It beats, changing every so often for a more tantalising atmosphere. You're alone, it's just you.

Open your eyes. There's a sea and you're swept with it. It has eyes and hands and mouths, teeth and tongues. It sings with the pulse. The crowd engulf the atmosphere and sweeps you into its hands - you're not alone.

The pulse stops. Darkness.

And then, they roar.

RE: Pro and Prod

Pro sits on my shoulder, he leapt out of my brain when the thought of bringing Prod out for a time slipped into my mind. He shows me things, new things that I have never seen before, to tempt me, to stop me from remembering Prod. Suddenly I am itching to be creative, life is at my finger tips, waiting for me but Prod sits at the back of my mind, scratching at me and reminding me that I need to work. Deadlines. Deadlines.

But there is such fun to be had, Pro whispers from his spot on my shoulder. I sigh, I know he is right but I cannot succumb to him. Prod smiles from inside my head, he knows I will thank him for it later and I will.

Curious

I lost myself once. I was falling and falling and falling and it was nothing like I'd ever seen before. Curious. But I scarcely remember, it escapes me how I came to lose myself - for a self is not an easy thing to lose, it is quite firmly attached to one's person. I quite often wonder if I'd gone mad and a small voice seems to agree with me most vigorously, we're all mad down here.

Down where? I'd ask myself and then I'd remember falling. Sometimes I fall into such fancy to imagine that I was chasing time itself and that was how I'd come to fall. But that would be silly. Ridiculous.

When I came to find myself, I felt as if I had found a lot more than I had lost. There was something different about the 'me' that I had found but I don't recall what it was. Sometimes I think phrases like as mad as a hatter and feel I know something I shouldn't. But it's all fancy. All fantasy.

But I can't help but wonder why the cat keeps grinning at me...

Reverie

Last night's make-up lines my face as if some southward emotion plagued me as I slept. The liquid reaction, only made evident by the black lines, makes my cheeks sticky. I raise my hand to them before moving to the sink. Cold water, fresh, livening. I don't remember my dream but I know that it didn't come unexpected.

I brush my teeth, the sick, night-old alcohol taste moving out of my mouth and into the sink with the tooth paste. It's refreshing. There are no after-affects from the vigorous liquid consumption of the night before. The only thing it had an effect on was the change in my purse and my state before I slept.

I remember vaguely what felt like walking in a dream but I know, with perfect clarity, that I was awake. But I didn't speak. Six familiar voices floated around me but I didn't join them, I simply listened while I walked, eyes starward. It was the first time that I had looked up to the ink in so long. I'd avoided the stars as best I could.

But when I looked up in my dream-like state, I saw nothing. Black ink. Cities, stars disappear in cities. An unfamiliar feeling of dread welled up in my stomach, it shouldn't be empty.

One voice pulled me from my reverie. Let's go on the wall, it's above the light and you can see the stars.

There were more steps than I'd expected and the stone barrier that would stop you from toppling off of the wall was lower. I looked up. There you are. I traced constellations with my eyes, ones that already existed and ones that I had created myself. I thought of stories, then and I was almost sure that they thought of me too. Then memories.

I tore my eyes away and looked down to the road far below. I should've been nervous, shaking. Heights. But I wasn't. My eyes moved to my hands, only now noticing how cold they were - too cold. The familiar, painful tingle swept from my tips up to my arms. My teeth ground against each other as I pushed the sensation back. The voice again, Come on, we're going.

We walked down the stairs, his arm around my shoulders and singing something that I can't remember. As we reached the bottom, we laughed and I spoke again.

March: Aries

Aries March 20 — April 19
If you leave the house with an industrial magnet hidden under your hat this week, you could lose your footing when the bus arrives. The fates are sending you messages on street signs. If the "Don't Walk" sign flashes your name in Morse code, you might want to step into traffic. Don't.

-Taken from ReadWritePoem.

Beneath my hat and hair is a world of ideas and they're out to get them. I know. Whenever I cross a street they lurch towards me, rage evident in their lumbering forms. They're fast, faster than they look and they tower over me as I am pulled away. Until that moment I remain unaware of their presence, lost in the life and activity around me as it paints pictures in my mind. The pictures are prettier than real-life, imbued with such shuddering colours that I can do nothing but halt my movements and stare - the oncoming traffic can wait.

I can feel the earth in my stride, it calls to me, telling its secrets so that I may write them down with the flourish of my pen. Don't walk, not yet. My mind fumbles over the words confused over their intentions even though the meaning is clear. I feel the pull of the tarmac. I hear it whispering sweetly in my ear, though it is far away. Don't walk. Please, don't walk.

My foot readies to step on the road.

And I'm on the floor, panting, as it roars past. A concerned face sits behind me, still holding onto my arm. The earth breathes a sigh of relief but I only look confused.