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fiachra breac Jul 2019
today she is blue
and purple and green
and she wears glitter
beneath her skin

she comes close
only to run away
closer! to run away
again

but i will sit
(as always)
and watch her
dance that dance

(close far close far close far)

and smile
for i’ve yet to see
such beauty matched
anywhere in this world

and for it to come
so close to me
woman of glass. woman of the sea.
fiachra breac Jul 2019
I spend nearly every waking moment
Thinking how you would find that thing funny
Or that thing sweet
Or that thing interesting.
fiachra breac Jun 2019
if I could
peel back the skin
from the top of my head
and crack open my skull
and reach inside,

I would pull out shards of
a woman made of Glass.

if I could
break open the covering
to my deepest fears and
truest hopes,

I fear the fingerprints
I would find lingering
on every part and piece
would erase themselves -
edit and change - cease.

if I could draw
the nameless stars
onto the inside of my eyes

and take your hand
and let your fingertips
trace the outline of my
thoughts;

if I could stab a straw
into the grey matter,
I would ask you drink it,
just so you could taste...

if I could open my veins,
and tie the bloodied strings
to your chest;

if I could hold your hand,
and feel our fingers
tangle and entwine;

if I could crack open my ribcage,
I would let you climb in;

if, if, if...
work in progress
fiachra breac Jun 2019
Exisiting in yet another space between
Two worlds, two lives.
Searching for some new meaning -
Or running from old demons?

Trapped in the divide, between
This and that,
anseo agus ansin.

Torn, tattered, stuck in an lár:
Teanga, life, baile, love.

Falling to pieces

Clawing at - clawing at what’s left,
What is left?

Left is the eight months since you did -
Not that that affects me anymore
(He lies to himself),
It’s just a marker, a buoy -
keeps me on course.

Struggling to see what's right,
What is right?

"If it feels good..."
I am uncertain - but I don't feel peace.  
Conflicted, definitely, and yet I don’t cease

Meddling in things I have no right to meddle in:
lives and loves and people -
Human beings.

Can you not see the damage this will cause?
Not you, but those who you misuse -
You are an evil, twisted little boy

Trapped in this space between
Right and wrong;
My twisted actions and my convicted mind;
Him and me.
wor(l)ds blur into each other

i detest what i am yet i do nothing to suppress it

_________________________________________

dated may 2018 // ó bealtaine 2018

strangely prophetic.
fiachra breac Jun 2019
for how was I to know
what I was never told?
fiachra breac Jun 2019
bhí coinne agam anocht,
chuaigh muid go Lus na Gréine.
bhí sí go hiontach.

labhraimid le chéile,
faoi gach rud agus níos mó.
bhí sí go hiontach.

tá sásta orm.
fiachra breac Jun 2019
this is not a game I enjoy playing
yet with every new month
I seem to get drafted in for one more round.

the team is familiar -
well, isn’t it always?
same faces, same bodies, same minds.

some months we swap places,
and friend becomes foe,
treading the same well-worn earth
we have all grown so accustomed to.

some months we draw crowds,
(who can resist? what colourful,
lively displays!)

some months we draw pity
(for who would watch the pitiful playtime
of university educated adults),

but one thing is guaranteed -
from the game is set in motion,
till the results are declared -
we will always,
always,
draw blood.
ah, the usual spectacle returns for another jam packed instalment.

see how grown up we all are! we neglect to communicate our feelings! look at our primmed and preemed words, scattered across many corners of the internet.

missed the action? fear not! the official soundtrack is COMING SOON (to a Bitter End near you). track after track of carefully constructed vitriol and bile, hand picked to reopen closing wounds. why waste a plaster, when you can pour vinegar into open sores?

music not your thing? no problem! read all about it with wildly differing perspectives and cheap hot takes; simply disengage your humanity and log on to the social media platform of your choosing. believe me, we’re all doing it.

and if modernity isn’t your speed, simply inform the same network of people immediately and watch as a molehill shoots to the top of every cartographer’s priority list.

you will be shocked, awed, and entertained. you will see tears, heartbreak, and jibes. and just when you think it can’t get any better, a few weeks from now, the process will start all over again as the next game gets underway...
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