#submergedmind

-

Vacant expression on your face.

Seemingly staring at the clock, waiting for time to tick.

Whilst the hands grudgingly move forward for me,

they rapidly retreat for you...

a time vacuum

-

Your physical form is unmoving, and the only sign of life

is the harsh up-and 

down of your aching heart.

They come in tightly pressed uniforms

and always in pairs of two, out of the fear of the unknown

and the horrifying prospect that a remnant of life could creep

back into you at any moment

-

They make comments about the weather:

reeking of counterfeit happiness

and for the first, fourth or seventh time you cannot recall what her name is.

-

Vibrancy has been replaced with bleakness

The primary colours (your white-streaked blue jumper) invaded by sombre grey

The engaging brightness of your eyes, contaminated by murky swamp water

When stared into, glimmers of days gone by 

- flash -

a memory jukebox.

- flash -

On the promenade, eating strawberry ice cream with the sherbet you

always glowed over.

-flash-

Reverted back to infancy?

No.

Babies cry and you only stare and sometimes quiver,

vacant expression on your face,

seemingly staring at the red roses (of Lancashire) on your windowsill, 

 they germinate then terminate.

-

You once told me you liked lilies, but they gave me a headache.

Sweet the sensation was to you, sickening it was to me.

 -

My response: answered by the pounding of my subconscious,

which sent an assembly of cobwebs (under the rule of one black widow)

To coat the mementos of our bond in tendrils,

Sealing luscious red roses, the filaments mummifying them into slumber.

 -

Love’s framework proceeded to crack under the weight of the widow,

It’s button-like eyes crying as it oversaw the annihilation.

 -

Pointing at you with its endless fingers, guaranteeing your demise

It commanded some vines and weeds to grow over your naked body,

Shielding your breasts from my eyes and burying you away.

Your eyes bolt shut with images of emerald overpowered by moss.

Nostrils caked with dirt.

-

You became a kind of effigy to Mother Nature.

 -

Finally, your nose twitches –

“Can you smell the lilies that were prepared?”, I whisper.

You shake your head.

A fitting tribute.

You emotionally blackmail me.

 I’m not sure if you were aware but

  You say I’m your best friend

    That you’re on the mend

      But a week after it’s someone else and your feelings conveniently

        Bend -

          back into place.

            Your lips whisper his name, the reverberations hit my chest and

              my valves terminate.

                  To me his name sounds like a scream

                      igniting jealousy that you can clearly see;

                         Yet you continue on: playing games with my naïve mind

                             the jigsaw clicks into place.

                                He’s ‘helping you’ with your problems.

                                        Your lips regurgitate the same advice that I gave you

                                        ‘Be strong’,

                                           ‘You’re the best person I know’,

                                               ‘Live’.

                                                  Only now you’re listening to it when whispered

                                                     from another’s lips.

                                                       The pain of caring for you when all you do

is push away,

                                                          Treating me like I could never understand 

you.

                                                             It crushes me like a wall of water,

                                                               the flood seeps into my lungs and eventually my heart.

                                                                    The rush of the tsunami ruptures my heartstrings and off floats my soul.

                                                                           My heart is emptied, and I no longer feel for you.

-

I once cursed myself.

Tread on my own toes.

And whipped myself into submission.

I chose to turn my back

and ignore people's cries for my amity.

-

Fed by my own insatiable appetite for antagonism,

my mind binged itself on insults whispered by its own creation –

Swallowing cities where the forecast is forever rain.

The thunder materialized and struck down on a scaffolding pole,

The beacon reverberated through the site, a site for a new development,

yet another estate of egos resting in slumber, arrogant to the lightning.

-

I walked the beams of the site on a thin line between depreciation and                                                              obliteration.

It is a dangerous line that I hope I no longer have to teeter off, where I was

Balancing like a tightrope walker with a despondent heart

The crowds eagerly awaiting for my

 downfall.

-

But over time you edged me off that line and I was sent, in a –

crash into the dark void below.

-

Awakening among the filth, I stretch my arms wide.

They hit the walls of my tomb, a shrill ding echoing.

I look around and besides me and the mud, a fresh bundle of lilies

Lie at my feet.

-

A small hole appears in the side of the void,

No bigger than a ladybug.

The pinprick of light I see, I crawl towards:

It turns out to be an illusion,

A cruel trick.

The little hole is filled again, machinery burying the glow.

Hey writers and readers!

 I’ve been on Tumblr for a good couple of months now posting my poetry, talking to amazing writers and liking posts, so I guess it’s about time I properly introduced myself to the community, even if I’m fecking late as per usual!

Thanks so much to all the followers I’ve been getting too (at 180 now, it’s insane!), makes me think I should start taking my passion at writing and making it serious :)

Also, people have been tagging me lately and I figured I needed to do this before completing the tags!

Sooo here we go:

My name is Myst, I’m 17 years old (18 on Sept 3) and I’m a wannabe poet/writer from the land of tea and crumpets. I’ve always had a passion for writing from when I was a weird alien fetus, writing horror stories in class to receive questioning eyebrows from my primary school teachers~

 I guess I’ve always been attracted towards the morbid side of life, maybe out of how curious I am and my annoying mission to question everything. I’ve since stuck with horror to become mainly a horror/crime writer! I’ve not posted anything about my novel WIP cause frankly, I have nothing for it and it’s a bit of a joke to call it a WIP when I grind to a halt for months on end with it.  I’ve designed a few basic characters and have my plotline sketched out but no actual writing has been done yet. 

It’s unnamed atm, but it’s about a murder investigation that spans 30+ years and concludes in the discovery of a serial killer. The detective is a complicated man (a bit of an anti-hero) who’s struggling with his identity and it takes looking at the stories of the victims and the help of his partner to truly make him understand his identity and his place in the world. Think of it like a bildungsroman mixed with a mid-life crisis ;)

However, I do write a ton of poetry, only a bit of which I’ve posted on here~ My poems are usually based off my own life experiences, twisted apocalyptic worlds I think up and themes around the origin of evil. I tend to use a gazillion metaphors, dabbling in blank space and structure to create symbolism, hopefully anyway.

I’m heading to Uni next year (depending on if I pass) to study either Policing, Social Work or English Literature (and Creative Writing) but I’ve not completely decided yet because I’m a bit of a procrastinating mess!

Feel free to chat with me about anything from your own work to random shit like anime. I’ll usually only post poetry but once I’ve got my novel WIP on track, I’ll put some of my OC’s on here! 

I’m always active on here so if you like or re-blog I’ll definitely check you out :D

Thanks for reading,