ViolentConfectionary

I am stumbling about childishly, lost in the labyrinth of my mind. My hands are jammed protectively into my pockets, clammy and cold with anxiety. Surrounding me are those chilling everyday faces; the faces my eyes meet, but never really acknowledge. Their eyes sit stony in their sockets, looking gray and lifeless, sapping the colour from the scene before me. Behind their backs, and stuffed into the pockets of their stark-white lab coats, I see pliers and screwdrivers, wrenches and drills; all in preparation to pry my mind open, and tamper with its technicalities. To create what is not there, and to eradicate what is. The overpowering anxie

You’ve spread yourself over my mind Like the sweet, glistening jam On my morning meal of toast You feed off me like a hungry parasite And deteriorate my strength like the common cold. Like a dose of morphine Or a power-hungry cancer You’re swimming throughout my scrawny body Eating away at my famished remains

You jump out of bed, leaving me behind, lost in a land of blue linen. I laugh to myself as you shower. I stagger out of bed in a giggling frenzy, before tripping on a small pile of unread, overdue library books and fall to the floor in front of the bathroom door. I obstruct the pathway as you attempt to open it. I pound the back of my head on the door as I sit cross-legged, singing children’s nursery rhymes at the top of my lungs (I know how that annoys you). I can feel my scalp bruising, my voice cracking and falling from my control like sand through my fingers. But I continue. I shriek, my throat raw with the staggering force of my

A demonic young boy With a contorted face and glowering eyes that pin you to the wall with fierce hatred Suffocating you with his violent gaze A gnarled grimace etched upon his loathsome face And a disgusting mess of hair that disguises the horns that protrude from his scalp Pure loathing being pumped throughout the veins of a gruesome mess of cells called a “brain” The container in his skull brimming with creative, terrifying thoughts Yet to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world Unaware of the potential devastation and violence it will harbour on us all. Suffering, misery, despair, loss, pain, brutality, tears, fears, to

It isn’t cold, but I pull a jumper over my head anyway before reaching for my bag and phone. I check my watch, 6.44am. I frown to myself and fiddle with the strap of my watch for a few seconds before decisively unstrapping it from my bony wrist. I shouldn’t have been wearing it. Time isn’t something that can just be compressed into a geometric shape, and attached to a leather band for you to wear like an accessory. That’s like caging a bird or trapping a lost spider under your drinking glass. Time should not be kept, it should be able to float aimlessly throughout our lives like clouds or discarded cling wrap. It should be

“You and I” tasted sugary sweet on my blackened tongue. Like the colourful collection of candies perched tidily behind the glass of the sweet store window. The simple entwinement of two tiny pronouns, and I had sugar bubbling through my elegant entanglement of veins. Together, you and I, we formed an oddity. (a sweet, sweet oddity)

A Tragic Fatality She sleeps on the couch now. Because it’s unbearable to wake up every morning too see that he isn’t lying peacefully beside her, awaiting the opening of her sparkling emerald eyes that greet him with a friendly “good morning sunshine”. Eyes that no longer sparkle, eyes washed out by the many months of grief her now-frail frame has had to endure. Eyes saturated by the despair that has been forced upon her, and have distorted her irises to an appropriate grey. Her circulatory system lies in a tangled, twisted mess, glued down beneath her pale translucent skin. It pulses grimy, polluted, weak blood throug

Do you ever think of me? I think of you. I beg myself to stop, I plead with my brain to erase you forever. It would be so much easier to forget. I grovel at my own merciless feet, screaming cries that break open the delicate sky that hovers above my weary head and send angels falling down to restrain me, to gag me, tie me up and heave me into my lonesome closet until I settle down. The solitude is empty and ferociously terrifying. I sit in there for days at a time, sobbing, painting the unlit walls with my sorrow, and etching your name into the back of the door with my jagged fingernails until they weep red tears along with me. Do you e