For we must all learn to howl.

“12:38 AM _______________ is calling…” I grab my phone – swipe right. Green to answer; green to let you into my room. Green like the shirt I wear while curled on the bed, propped against the pillow. You look nothing like you. Pixels and light where flesh and warmth should be. You are you, but not the you I hold. You are so much more than a blurry image and a shaky internet connection. We talk, we laugh, we tease. Shadows leap from the jar of stars I keep on the shelf  and dance  on the wall of the cupboard behind me. The stars shine ever brighter when you are with me -  why should my room be any different? I touch you, tracing the stubble on your jaw, brushing the hair from your eyes. It doesn’t work. Damned phone screen – my finger slides uselessly off its smoothness, and I curse behind the smile I wear for you. My fingers curl into the blue of your jacket, lying faded and loved – so loved – beside me on the bed. ...

she wanted to be fire, to burn so bright none could bear to look into her soul to be desirable, untameable she wanted to be the one who shone red, blood red, fire red but all she saw in the mirror was messy lips; ruined mouth freckled skin; dark shadows eyes too big – or were they too small? hair that once blazed with flames but had long since faded into browns and greys and the only red came from within, when she opened the door and it bubbled up she wanted to be the sun but she was the moon even her wolves would not acknowledge she was the moon who pretended to be the sun and that was not enough. how do you stop everyone from leaving? you hold the door open and thank them for stopping by, and when they go you lock the door and set the house on fire. and then you burn, darling, how you burn.

Who do you think you are? Hiding behind that glass eye you see through so well, do you think no one will see you? Do you think no one will take notice of you? How dare you think so lowly of yourself. How dare you hold that camera to freeze others in time, yet somehow – somehow! assuming that you cannot be frozen too. How dare you – do you think for even a moment that the camera’s eye will not find you? Because you may hold the tool, boy, but it doesn’t distance you from that which you capture. I know what it’s like to hide behind the lens, but even I can tell that this isn’t what you’re made for. I see you, dear one. I see you.

The way he looks at you (like a kiss) The way he smiles at you (it feels like the first of winter's snow starting to thaw) The way he holds you (you've never felt safer) like a whisper The way he loves you like falling asleep (so complete) The way he breaks you like a promise - spindly neck snapped in three places and all you see is empty (there is no colour to be found) and all you feel is grey (hollow).

Where was this when I needed it fresh Because it all feels like it’s going bad again Or is it just because I’m sick and my head’s spinning so fast I can’t keep up body burning up and all I want is you here to tell me to care shhh it’s ok maybe it’s the voices in my hea- wait no they’ve been here all the while let them through, they’re family. I think they comfort her. maybe it’s because it’s a Monday and you’re probably still at the office  (God, do you never leave on time?) maybe joking around with your colleagues because they’re all nice people like you Why does it feel like you don’t exist any more why does it feel like I’m starting to forget beautiful, yes. beautiful, what? What was that? I forget. I remember. I forget. it sounds to my ears when I say it like you’re dead maybe you’re dead to me are we dead to each other? is this how it feels when someone walks out of your life? like they simply cease to exist in y...

Doubt. He’s the one you tell yourself to stay away from, but the lover you return to every night. Maybe it’s not entirely by choice, but he knows you oh so intimately – he’s explored every inch of you, and he’s a patient lover that he knows exactly where to touch to make you shiver. Perhaps it’s no exaggeration to say that maybe he even knows your next move before you’ve even decided on one. He’s the one you promise yourself never to see again as you dress yourself the morning after, while he lounges on the bed and laughs as he watches. You know those hungry yellow eyes all too well, dear. He needs no sweet words to seduce you, no leash and collar to own you, and yet you are his – mind, body and soul. Doubt takes all, pet. He is the master you both love and loathe – you question the roles of master and dog in this relationship of yours, wonder what it would be like to be free from him someday, ponder the possibility even, yet run back to him the moment he calls...

I think whoever it was who first described Jealousy as green both understood it too well and yet not at all. Jealousy is green - green is youthful, full of energy... And at the same time incredibly childish. On the whole, Jealousy is so much more than that. Jealousy is red  - it's blind rage, a fire threatening to consume you as you catch yourself wondering if he's seeing someone else. It's possessive, wanting him only to yourself - it's dangerously heady. Jealousy is blue  - it's you feeling as though you're not good enough for him, wondering if he looks at other people and wishing you could be like those other people. It's you telling yourself you don't deserve him, you never will, and it's you telling yourself (and hating yourself all the more for it) that he should be with someone else because they fit better. Green  is when he sulks because you can't go to dinner with him. Red  is crazy, stupid impulse - the ones you push down a...

『 LOVELESS 』ですか。。。 I wonder. Can you see it? The days passing by like faded greys Somewhere between the headaches and the spinning the letters the writing meaningless flirting I think I started missing you again しっていますか？ How it felt when I talked to you I don’t want to hear their voices the way I did yours I don’t want to know their stories the way I did yours The hot summer days we used to talk about have melted into hazy sighs 『 愛 』はなんですか？ You said you would show me if I trusted you If I fell Did you catch me? The doves have all flown away, my love. It’s time to join them. しっていますか？ I hate them. The others – they don’t call to me like you did With their panting smiles and hungry eyes they want only to possess, control. They think themselves wolves but you and I, we were our own pack This wolf hunts alone now. わかっています。 I gave everything to you so much that now the leaves are like falling snow it is winter now, i...

7:45am He leaves the house with his bag carelessly flung over one shoulder, fingers busily working through the knots that have formed in his earphones (because he’d just untangled them, for fuck’s sake). As always, he manages to sort through the chaos by the time he reaches the ground floor, and makes his way to the bus stop. He’s strolling and halfway towards the bus stop when the bus itself thunders past him, and it takes a second to register before he finds himself chasing after the damned thing with a curse sharing the space in his throat with his heart, jamming his earphones into his ears as he runs. 8:02am He boards the train at the same time every day, and glances at the map out of habit. As always, he counts eighteen stops to his destination and sighs. 8:10am He looks up. She always boards the train at the third stop, and today is no different. She’s interesting to watch, he decides, because she looks like she’s tried too many times to piece herself together...

It's happening again. Music - louder! -  The voices can still be heard. Eyes - dropped to the ground -  the shadows are still there -  Stop. This needs to stop. didn't they disappear for good back then? What happened - how - when - wait. She knows. Like before, everything rushes back. It's a tsunami of thoughts, words, sensations and the overwhelming need to do something drastic. Something stupid. Bottle, cap and store -  for as long as possible, as many bottles as the shelf can hold. A crack - oh shitfucknoFUCKFUCKFUCK Run. Retreat. Hide. Stay in the glass sanctuary you've managed to build. Sleep within the maze you know, walls high - strong - enough to lash out at but not break. Leave everything outside the way it was, nothing matters now. This was not how it was supposed to go. This so-called roller coaster -  this ride -  it was not supposed to last so long. Jump. Maybe you'll fly. Swallow the red pill. Maybe you'll wake ...

I finally finished that Death Note piece I tried writing about a week or two ago! Here it is, it's kind of short and focuses on the scene where Misa's been captured for interrogation by L - this scene wouldn't leave my mind for a long while and I decided that the only way to get it out was to write about it. Hope it doesn't feel too rushed, it's still really raw and I'm not too happy with the ending format but still I suppose this'll do for now. *This piece belongs to me, though I do not own Death Note. Damn how I wish I did.* One… two… three… four… five… She doesn’t really know why she’s counting in her head – maybe it’s for something to do, to keep herself occupied. It feels like an anchor of sorts, a finger-hold of whatever sanity left in the dark that surrounds her. Twenty… twenty-one… twenty-two… twenty-three… twenty-four… He’ll save her, she knows it. She’s afraid and it shows, she knows it shows, from the slight trembling of her bott...

pretty pretty girl are you porcelain or filigree you with your hair of spun gold or is it woven bronze instead oh I love you, pretty girl with your glass eyes and your painted cheeks but most of all I love your pretty little ruined mouth tainted by the lips of another as he whispered against them his sweet poisonous nothings pretty pretty girl how did you not notice? the sneer in his eyes the mocking laughter in his kisses he left you,  pretty girl with his withered flowers forgotten sighs yellowed letters where are you now, pretty girl I hear you crying do not run from me I am not like him him with his honeyed poison while I only have rough and honest flowers to give while common daisies cannot compare to roses their beauty has its own meaning can you find it within yourself to love a pauper, pretty girl? I cannot give you jewels and dresses but if you will take them, I can give you flowers as well as...

It is hard to explain how a piece of paper is excruciatingly difficult to fill when years ago words would have written themselves without a second thought How the weight of a pen  is now a familiar stranger like once-lovers meeting at crossroads after a particularly painful parting How melodies that used to play now sound dusty and distracted when they once rang as clear as rainwater and sounded as sweet as the taste Like a dance only half-remembered, steps mostly forgotten though the song still plays over and over like a broken record in an old woman's heart It is truly frightening to feel as though all your senses have been dimmed For that is exactly how it feels it is not living What use is the richest of wines if one cannot taste it The loveliest of masterpieces if one cannot see it What use is a dancer without her legs a singer with no voice an artist with no brush a photographer with no camera What u...

Suffocated. I'm breathing, slow steady breaths -  drawing the beautifully cold air into my lungs. The chilly wind is a kiss upon my cheek; an icy caress that wraps itself around me. He's a selfish lover. Selfish, but not cruel. I feel loved by the wind and the rain and the cold. Tell me then, why do I feel as though I'm being tied down?

Laugh, then. Go on, laugh. Laugh at me, loud and clear and mocking. Keep laughing - I know what you think of me. Freak.  Keep laughing. Because every time you laugh, I'm reminded of why I should thank you. Thank you - why yes, I should do that. It's part of class, after all. I should thank you. So thank you all. Thank you for teaching me that who I am isn't "accepted". Thank you for teaching me that who I am makes me a good target for mockery and laughter. Thank you for teaching me how to be a bitch, and thank you for tearing me down when I finally tried to rise up again. Fuck you all.

It is a curious feeling.  It creeps up on her and hugs her tightly from behind when she least expects it, refusing to let go. It steals her breath and kisses her pulse, leaving no trace save the sudden weight that presses upon her heart. It is pain and happiness and sadness. It is lust and grief and anger. It is hate and love and mourning.  It is hope and regret and longing. What is it? She stares into the mirror, forcing herself to meet the eyes of that which looks terrifyingly alike yet nothing like her. She does not know these eyes. 

A smile. An ever-so-slight twitch of the lips, one movement he cannot help but notice. But her eyes -  they dart away as quickly as a fish in troubled waters. He slouches, disappointed lifts his hand, aware of quietly observing eyes and a half-bowed head pretending not to notice As he musses his hair with calculated casualness. She bites her lip. Success! a reaction he continues watching her with half-lidded interest A game of teenaged cat-and-mouse the thing is, who is which? Poker faces. Both pretend they do not wish to acknowledge the other but every now and then her eyes swiftly rake across his face as she glances up The doors open; people leave. She watches them with mild interest acting as though she is completely engrossed in their little bubbled worlds She types, types, types... What exactly is she typing, he wonders. Who could she possibly be texting, weaving words into ideas for? Someone next to him stan...

Alice oh Alice Sweet little girl; Curious little sweetling she vanished without a trace on a fine Summer's day Alice oh Alice how they searched, how they called for you your mother kept calling Alice, oh Alice Where did you go? Surely you must have known surely you would have found some way any way They said you went down the rabbit's hole through the veil never to return Alice oh Alice Why didn't you tell them? How were they to know That as they stayed by the rabbit hole keeping vigil How were they to know Some who prayed said  the rabbit had taken you  Some said your soul was lost forever It was just like that in the midst of chaos and panic that the first rabbit was seized How were they to know the moment its head was torn off they would see a girl  dead at their feet? How were they to know? That your mother's wails would echo through the village? Continue for days on end? Th...