Scratch the itch from the poison of modernity in the tapestry of culture as it contrasts and conflicts in gentrified decay; where UV is cast into stone as it crumbles to the sound of archaic rhythm.
Only some of the clock hands refuse to turn to allow different splinters of time to converge. as others idle by propelled by contemporary euphoria; grinding on ages already passed.
Mechanisms of time fragment in the sound of simplicity, relics are no longer held in memory but carved in hieroglyphs, worn into cobblestones of interchangeable streets all leading to a history which repeats.
written after a mini adventure on the streets of a perplexingly quaint town.
Each lacerating scar is a new engravement which becomes more than we’ll ever be. A definition of the synergy between fate and cruelty.
Shallow graves tease us beckoning us to crawl inside to be comforted by the silence imagining our bones as dust allowing our minds to fade out of focus the static drowning out every twist of the knife- by our own hand that told us we were worthless.
But there’s beauty in misery not in our reflection but in the eyes who hold the keys to all the doors you’re too scared to open until someone pushes you through bringing you to life, in ways you always dreamt to live until you forget all of the reasons you want to die.
I used to think that perfection didn't make sense so I built a fence around my senses and kept you inside there was nowhere to hide from your judgement it rained down upon me, as you pretended we meant something you wanted to be the architect of my misery the lies let you pretend you cared but nothing between us was ever shared only given only taken.
Expectation masquerades as appreciation but, this was never about me- take away the pedestal because in the end, it was about you, you and your indignance at the rigidity of my desire; my reluctance to embrace a synthesised version of ****. Still, you gained my trust over the years searching for a vulnerability only to find the last shred of hope in a fetishizing humanity as I await the next wave of languished salacity.
I’ll let you all fall away, I never gave you reason to stay; it never belonged to you. I belong to an idea a dream so ubiquitous it encompasses me with malleability instead of encasing me. I come, but I never have to leave I’m exactly who I want to be encased in the sacrosanct vulnerability subjugated under the lock that never needed a key.