Words Flow From The Deepest Gashes Of Our Deepest Injuries. If You Treat The Wound And Let It Scab Over,

Writing Playlist

These are my favourite songs to listen to while writing, along with the feelings they evoke in me and the situations they remind me of.  If you make your own playlist, please tag me! I wanna see. 

Hans Zimmer - Time (Inception): realizing your insignificance in our ever-expanding universe, watch time (whatever that might be) loop endlessly around you. Past, present, future, all connected through endless wormholes, floating amidst a thousand stars, those places where reality feels altered (abandoned buildings, the woods at night, rest stops on highways. 

Ludovico Einaudi - Experience: Hope, when flowers grow in the dark, making your peace with that which you cannot change, not giving up. 

Theory of Everything - Ending Scene Music (The Cinematic Orchestra - Arrival of the birds): being freed of boundaries,  the bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self, wanting to learn everything there is to learn about the world we live in. 

Game of Thrones: Season 6 OST - Light of the Seven: Anger, revenge, avenging yourself and those you love, cunning.  

Zankyou no Terror OST - Von: Finding a sliver of hope when all else feels lost, healing. 

LORDE - Everybody Wants To Rule The World: Cunning, great ambition, rebelling, disregard for rules. 

The Rains of Castamere: Pride and honour, duty, war. 

Zack Hemsey - The Way (Instrumental): An eerie melody, the devastation of knowing the war is lost but continuing to fight, walking in the land of the Dead. The last night with your peers before heading into battle. 

Sleeping at Last - Saturn: Death of a loved one, mourning. 

Ask i Memnu music: Passion, secrets, forbidden desires, sex. 

Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars: Nostalgia, pulling a dérive with the person you love, escaping and leaving the world behind with them, the feeling of time stopping when you’re with them. 

Death Parade -  Moonlit Night: Sadness, being in denial, then finally being set free, allowing yourself to feel. 

Andrew Belle - In my veins: Unrequited love, heartbreak.

Game of Thrones Season 6 OST - Winter Has Come: Longing for home, the coming of dawn after a night full of darkness, battle. 

The Most Saddest Melody: Feeling lost, like a wandering spirit that never quite reaches its destination. Reflecting on the mistakes of the past, wishing you could change what was written in the stars.

Naruto Soundtrack- Sadness and Sorrow: As the name suggests, this song represents the deepest sorrow imaginable. I also hear a hint of nostalgia, loss of innocence, mourning.

Taylor Swift feat.The Civil Wars Safe & Sound: A sense of safety and stability in the middle of chaos, walking barefoot in the woods, the echoes of ruins, a bonfire.  

ADELE - Love In The Dark | Kyle Hanagami Choreography (Leroy Sanchez Cover): Difficult relationship, feeling unwanted, when you finally accept it’s over and it’s time to let go. 

Sleeping Beauty OST - Aurora’s Return/Maleficent’s Evil Spell: (from 1:48 minutes until 3:40) Feeling someone breathe on your neck when no one else is there, being followed by someone you cannot see, waking up at three am for no apparent reason, sounds you cannot explain, shadows in your peripheral vision. 

Alex & Sierra - Little Do You Know: Falling in love and the hurting that comes with it, loving someone unconditionally and fearing what that might mean, overcoming obstacles in a relationship. 

Parachute - Kiss Me Slowly: First kiss, slow and tender, yet powerful and dizzying. Waking up in the arms of your loved one for the very first time. 

Christina Perri ft. Steve Kazee - A Thousand Years: A marriage proposal, spending the rest of your life with your soulmate, growing old with them. 

Chester See - God Damn You’re Beautiful: Pinning, someone’s beauty taking your breath away, your heart racing when you see them. 

Art By IG: @Naehrstff

sinema filmleri izleInstagram: @artwoonz

Manifestation

When I was little, I would always draw the same kind of characters My mother once remarked how odd it was that, in the end, I grew up to look exactly like one of them A tall girl with long tangled hair And legs reaching down almost to the bottom of the page I wonder if that’s what people call manifestation Did I stretch my own bones with the stroke of an overzealous pen? Did I really have such power placed in my innocent hands?

If so, what am I to think of the darkness I dreamt since childhood? Of how lovely and comforting  the obscure was to me The inferred but unuttered The women that I would draw always looked to the side Beyond the borders of my colouring book With an odd knowing glimmer in their eyes A somber, secretive look Over the years my bones shifted to give me that same face An unreadable cypher I grew to be sullen, to silence more than I say Did I have a hand in it? Did I define my own features, Craft them in one fell swoop of a felt tip?

What made me who I am? Destiny or design? I never intended to play God But it seems I held my own self in my palms Like a block of clay Some kind of unconscious arts and crafts project. I must have modelled myself after all that I admired Rebellious and bohemian Enamoured to madness Distanced and calculating Less bridal than monstrous

I blackened my own heart with a permanent marker I told myself a story enough times That it stepped from the page to meet its maker It’s not that I wasn’t warned I am tall and brooding because I never listened to what I was told Careful what you wish for It might just come true The human psyche, a distorting mirror, a game of mimicry Monkey see, monkey do

I was a child with second sight Sketching her own future So I guess it is manifestation The mighty spell of magic thinking Almost as potent as a third eye Mother was right. I am fiction become flesh My life, a successful imitation of art

Inspired by @jmsapphire‘s prompt “Mold my clay heart” for @poetryclub13

Let me drown in the cold wind of solitude A shiver of pleasant memory, I feel The heat of anger subsides Although the path is destructive and forlorn A breath is what I need Relief from the crushing helplessness Wind was numbing and parasitic

For a bright second sun shines But then the betrayal resurfaces I plummet into the seemingly never ending tunnel of despair Tumbling and falling but I try to hold on But the shadow is all I can see and I can’t outrun it Because it is attached to me

These cuts and wounds of joy are treasured souvenirs They remind me of my loss,my downfall Their presence pains me But I couldn’t afford parting I love it I hate it The bittersweet memory

A Pretense

“The normalcy of life burning a hole in my curious soul

Where it should have been nurtured, my creativity

Is rotting in the stillness of mundane

Is it educated out of me?

Steered away from interests because they say

“You would never get a job doing that!”

Or has my imagination drowned?

Imagination, a gift as potent as birth

Where it should have sailed into my adulthood

Has been stumped prematurely

Has life become a soothe stream, with occasional waves?

Where it should be a whirlpool of experiences

Claps of thunder breaking the monotony

Mute now defines it

Am I living? Is there liveliness?

Its presence I have never felt

But its absence is apparent

Have we all donned masks?

And dissolved in the masses

Lost our individuality

Is this all a pretense?”

This is one of my earlier works.

It was evening then. Just 7:30, but the night had already set. The dim streetlight cast a bluish hue over me. I was walking in the street, towards the pool side of the B block. I was wearing a hoodie,the hood covering my head. My gait and the hoodie signalled ignorance but I knew it was just a pretense. I knew it hid me from the gazes of other, it hid me from their faces, which told me what they were thinking, it hid me from thinking too much. Cold winter wind was blowing. I was wearing shorts and could feel it flowing around my bare shins. It flew through me. The coldness went through me like a ghoul. It sucked energy from me. Goosebumps signalling its departure. Leaving me momentarily empty. But I felt alive. The heat in me receded. The anger subsided. The cold wind felt fresh in my lungs. It chilled my nose. It felt tingly. The wind was addictive. I wanted more cold, more release. I wanted to feel it in my body. I wanted to drown in it. It gave me relief but took my life. While I write this my nose bleeds. I feel the red warm blood flowing out, dropping to the ground. Turning from deep red to ferric tangerine. The wind was parasitic.

They Change Us

From man To monsters

Frome monster To men

Such Mercurial Is Our Nature

Good stuff.

Within the dark forest

A humid element and dense fog

Coating the perceived dark soil of my self

An uncured and unwilted earth

Too dense for a breath

In this hardened lump of clay

Uncultivatable since forever

A seed has been sown

The seed is of a need

Of a friendship and a love

Of germination

It belongs to a field

The soil is still set and hard

Tormented by torrents of rain and storm

Of high winds and meteoric stones

Infested with the dark worms of doubts

And the spread of pain's fungi

Rotten roots and corpses of rodents

A stunted sapling or death

Is meant

But

The tilling of the soil, the seed brings

A shelter from degradation

Slashing of the grey canopy

The soil softens

Under a new brighter light

A warmer shine

Creatures breath

The rot expunged

The seed warms up

Hope for an orange fruit