Uncategorized

Bus Journey

The noise was louder now, deafening, practically unbearable.
It never seemed to stop, slowly at first but quicker over time, a wave of discomfort began to effect everyone within earshot. The pitch was unworldly, a screeching of such intensity that all around refused even to acknowledge its existence. One of these people most affected was a middle aged man by the name of Jacob.
Jacob gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes tightly. He took a deep breath a braved a glance over at the source of the noise. Man I hate children, he thought to himself. The mother of the child looked like she shared a similar view on the world as she gently tried to encourage it to stop its incessant bawling.

Writing

Stolen Metaphors & Changed lines

Being with you is electric,
shocks replaced with butterflies,
perilous and sweet.
The dark and the rain and tea and fish,
mean nothing to most but everything to me.
Being with you changes everything,
hugs more than hugs,
words more than words,
kisses more than kisses…
Even time.
Being with you changes time,
be it the ticking of a clock
or the beating of my heart,
time is never quite enough around you.
Being with you is unconditional,
if you were a storm
I’d be dancing with the thunder.
Being with you is my now.
Being with you is my happy.
Being with you is my future.
Being with you is fantastic.

poetry · Writing

A Poem about a Girl

Dark and the quiet of comfort,
two minds, so different yet travelling together
and for a while all is settled.
Life stops rocking but my heart still beats.
We said romance is but a dream,
but this is better.
This is real.
I don’t know a lot,
I don’t know you yet,
I don’t know me yet,
and I don’t know us yet.
But I do know,
I want to.
Seven hours is a long time
but it goes by so quickly.