spatialconcepts

[spatialconcepts]

complicated dichotomy

collecting cuts  from fistfuls of shattered stars razor sharp tongues across  the shards of windowpanes  wrapped up in white satin gloves distorting into gauntlets  protecting broken hearts from the mesmerising fall over the balcony, watching the bottom of my beginning admiring priceless ruby swarvoski teardrops accenting the hems sewn inbetween the blood diamonds  of our past conflicts & disagreements fractured past seeping through slits in seams just in time to powder my nose  gracefully exit my existence & pretend i can battle through this

[spatialconcepts]

le penseur

indulge in subtle pleasures of life in the home of my own company

can’t tell if it’s ’cause  i’m missing you, or if i’m failing to find  my purpose inside of me

[spatialconcepts]

go fishing

twine of time twisted left hanging by a thread by the spinning of our sins in your eye, i’m calm  now drifting across international waters swallowed whole by torrential backwash  enmeshed in regret

[spatialconcepts]

real doll

my ring slid over your tongue pressed love right between my lips slinking crushed velvety pillows between my thighs; slid the bolt across my gates, caged me  like your dirty whore, sealed up little tears & kept me as your blowup doll left in the depths of your closet  (more of a tip than to hang suits in) now more detritus than sexual thrill & still i dream of you using me when you want a little high lit in the soft moonlight of your own mattress with half a sheet on the bed pumped up with love again

[spatialconcepts]

habits

you left me with two habits addictive and all consuming but the one that will linger for my lifetime; the unbreakable reminder of you

[spatialconcepts]

an ode to menus-plaisirs – les troisgros

wind licks its lips reminding me of the  inescapable voracity of life tempting me with  an amuse bouche of challenging my borders to smooth the edges of my peaks and troughs  navigate the x and y axis to soar, not fall that life could be worth  devouring whole  as if I was forgetting  the mindfulness practice of  being grateful & staying humble instead; overindulging to avoid the interrogation of my inner monologue letting the salt tell its own stories — rather; lull in a soft moment  of solitude with my soul seconds standing perfectly still letting the warmth glaze over like self saucing pudding savouring each course showcased on the carte du jour

[spatialconcepts]

____ground

opaque veils now consume the places we used to play in  the swings and round-abouts of our conversations  turned into sand picked up by a strong gust took the wind of “us” out of the sails of our future

i now spend days sitting alone  in the empty playground of my mind

[spatialconcepts]

avalanche

six weeks since i last kissed  your lavender lips in the hallway time stood still, tears kept running  against weeping wounds of white-hot desires, sticking to the sheets where you laid next to me, celestial being — plunging your fingers through the dark sheets of the sky, digging up stars in the blankets of time the pang of desire, like watching a  perfectionist artfully racking a line, you were the one that made time  worth waiting for, feels like there’s not much to life  if we can't cherish time to cut it short —

oh, pardon me my bad habits, daydreaming while picking fresh scabs —

i hopelessly fall back into warm reminders of you again

[spatialconcepts]

lilith

insufflate the last specks of my snow white soul feel the devils breath  waltz around your aura hang yourself up neighbouring your ego death suit trust fall into my arms, angel i won’t drop you

until

[spatialconcepts]

the tunnel

loneliness is — standing in the middle of a moonless tunnel  on a steely brisk night  where the echos of thunder get amplified, the whirlwind of detritus causing tinnitus keeps making life noisy like a hoarder with an alarm clock problem i'll keep on oversleeping and laying in since there ain't no light in sight at the end

[spatialconcepts]

tender

the appetite for a slice of life  bites down  on the bullet  of tomorrow

[spatialconcepts]

slip

chaos brews a bitter sludge in the chokehold of solitude

i swallow a sweet surrender & sink into a warm slumber

[spatialconcepts]

motion picture

stored photo albums of our minutes with stubbed out celluloid memories cigarette burns smothering eternal love letters signed reminiscent with the featherweight of your fingertips, the sting of a summer kiss, the stardust shimmer, the glimmer of your eyes... of your smile steadfast, i yearn for the seal of your skin next to the beating heart of a new day

[spatialconcepts]

em—broiled

the stench of seared skin a third-degree reminder; play with fire, get burnt. 

[spatialconcepts]

stardust

his face, waxing gibbous gently blowing reveries through the woven shapes of my dreamcatcher fancies slipped in between string securing slumbering trinkets charms, feathers & spirits  leaving behind beads of syrup like dew for my tongue to savour  on first blush of morning

[spatialconcepts]

metamorphosis

escaping the headlights was a skill i hadn’t refined as i found out when i was spotted running away for the fifth time. i had to spend the night fleeing my dreams of violence, but i would wake up to the living nightmare instead. my mother showed me the skill of how to stay as i watched her be silent and still, getting slammed up against the wall that had markings from my childhood.

i didn’t get the chance to leave on my own accord, i got kicked out instead. spent my twenties looking for safe boyfriends who turned out to be abusers since i learnt from the best. took me a while to believe i was better than that, but it hasn’t been without its challenges. didn’t realise i was following in the footsteps of my mum and my nan, reinforcing the comfort of trauma i had been bathed in.

i learnt to put too much in others and love myself last. spent years caring about how my family wanted to be the girl they dreamed of, living up to some idea that they lost when they were young. societal pressures didn’t change, they just were packaged in a pressure cooker that i felt pressed into, losing all the contours and eccentricities that made me, me.

slowly noticed my skin was holding nothing inside. i had turned into a paper mâché shell with a “lost” poster on the walls of me, seeking the whereabouts of a kidnapped part named ‘identity’.

i spend my days now seeking the safety of being free. planning the odd escape with various chemical substances and the comfort of familiar company. i am learning to stop saying sorry as a reflex action, creating a relationship with a therapist as a replacement. a few close confidants now show me real love instead of throwing fists, giving me love through words of hope and affirmation.

my journey is not defined, sometimes i lose sight of what i wish to be. pushing up against the periphery of where i want to be. i keep reminding myself that patience is the key.

i desire the strength to fly now, but i am only beginning to develop wings. i don’t need to run to avoid who i am anymore, i just need to grow the power to follow my own path to finally set me free.

[spatialconcepts]

perfume

this scent of circumstances lingers  atomised by the time that expands and contracts our sense of seconds feels like hours when we plant these moments  into memories with gazes  that start stories how we roll whispers with nimble fingers to ship secrets detailing our  special ingredients in little bottles that make up this  perfect composition of time well spent

you are far away now, and still i am wrapped in the aroma of you