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I close my two eyes
I can’t see anything
I need a hand
from my pineal gland
to give me some vision
projections hit the back of my eyelids
showing me images conjured by myself
I am the artist and the audience
finally a filmmaker
but I have no editor
every edition is a suicide cut
the assembly footage with no assembly
different stories with the same outcome
being stuck in a homicide rut
different possibilities creating a medley
of my own creations hunting me
with the faces of others plastered on
in this world my mind is God
isolating flaws and fears
always feeling the end is near
when there was no beginning
to moving pictures with no plot
just mapping out my mind rot
showing me my insecurities and anxieties
leaving me insecure and anxious
I’m starting to hate the author of these stories
but the more I hate him the more they get gory.
Some days I don’t want to leave the cinema
I sit dead centre,
hope the screen will fill my field of vision,
each speaker will cover my ears
in numbing sound
allowing thrills and broken hearts
of others’ made up tales
to supplant my own for two hours
and change

The dark holds me anonymous,
lets me depart and drift,
try on the moods in lost safety
so when credits roll
choked tears and shiny blisses
are returned, rewound, reset
for what comes next
aviisevil Nov 2021
somedays I'm more scared
than the others

more susceptible to the
diseases of the mind

that lay their bare hands
on my chest and

weave it down

hammer on the uncertainty
of the coming morning

meld the steel that dangles
from the ceiling

waiting to pounce at any
unsuspecting moment of
failure and dread

in the dead of the night
when the sun awakens

and ever so suddenly
the moon bursts into flames

all the stars falling in a
fiery ball of madness

circling the streets sniffing
at the despair that haunts the
dreams of crying children

lost to the dark alleys and
smoke, and powder

perching on the threads of
looming crisis of faith and
all things miserable

the melancholy of which is
lost on the swaying trees and
the singing birds

the lonely man living up
in the mountains has no inkling
of the cascading apocalypse

that is all over the news in
small fine print while an angry
man on the TV screams at people for
not paying attention to what he
has to say

over and over
again and again; until
it is time for the magic
of make belief:

only if magic was a real thing
so many things would have been

the world would be a different
place albeit a similar one

the kind that lives in your
head and prospers in your mind

the kind Charlie Kaufman
knows about.
basil Oct 2021
i want someone to notice the way i laugh at the wrong parts of movies
and know what weird thought i had about the scene
to hold my hand and kiss my dimple and write about how witty i am
we can joke about it every time we rewatch it

i want someone to read to me under a fading sky in the wintertime
as our breath curls around our throats and it's hard to keep their voice steady
but the words are pretty, and so are their fingers as they wrap around my hair
sylvia plath for the darker days,
robert frost when the sun starts peeking through

i want someone who will dye my hair in shades of pink and green
our noses curling at the scent of the overwhelming bleach
laughing hysterically as we get high on the fumes and try to be quiet when we hear my mom's footsteps outside the bathroom
i'll cut their bangs choppy to match

i want someone who will sing duets with me to a blown out car stereo
as we drive aimlessly through the nights of this ghost-town-to-be
i'll steal the aux cord more than once, and mess with the windows like a kid
but they'll tolerate it because they like the wind
almost as much as they like me

i want someone to dance with me in the rain like we're in a bad romance novel
and enjoy it anyway because it smells like promises (and i keep those)
we can waltz badly and laugh until it hurts to laugh, and then we'll just sway
i'll splash them with puddles and they'll splash back harder
and we can ditch our clothes and get hypothermia together

maybe one day i'll want them enough to have them

but for now i'll watch movies by myself and still laugh at all the wrong parts, knowing that i'm weirdly clever

i'll read poetry in my own voice under the grey sky cut open by leafless branches, because it's pretty

i'll dye my own hair and cut my own choppy bangs and i'll feel untouchable

i'll scream 'bohemian rhapsody' by myself driving down main street in the middle of the night

and i'll just wait for it to rain so i can catch in my mouth and pretend it was a kiss from the sky
somebody find me somebody to love <3
lol fvckin love queen <3
also... this is like... one of my favorite things i've written <3
ode to self love amiright <3

Zack Ripley Oct 2021
It's not about the love or the hate.
It's about being able to resonate.
It's not about the fame, fortune, or gold.
It's about trying to tell a story in a world
where it seems every story's already been told. And don't be afraid to tell us
if you don't understand. We get it.
No one is going to relate to every painting, movie, or band.
At the end of the day, all we want to do
is help you escape.
And if we inspire or entertain you
along the way, then all the pain is worth it.
No matter what the naysayers say.
It ain't as easy as the A B C
It ain't the same as the movies
Have you ever wondered how it'll feel
Walking hand in hand down by the sea
It's been too long since I've had these dreams
When will I tell you how I feel
I love films!
Some long others short
I've lost count how many I've bought
I love films!

I love films!
Black and white to colour
A cool dvd cover
I love films!

I love films!
Box sets, special edition
Today's new acquisition
I love films!

I love films!
My moment to be free
Sat with my cup of tea
I love films!

I love films!
Simply put they're the best
What do I love? You've guessed!
I love films!
©️ 2021 Joshua Reece Wylie. All rights reserved.
Inspired by my love for films
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