#1
the forest is outside my window,
when I'm out of mind I address the trees
in such a cordial manner that they
can't help but blush a little-
have you ever seen a tree blush?
it's on someones list somewhere of
things to see before they die.

this morning i woke up and made tea, but
simultaneously i was trying to live a different
life in my head, one where i was waking up and
drinking water, wearing blue slippers and
reading the paper instead of wearing
no slippers and staring at the forest,
the whole day i tried to live one life in my actions,
and a completely separate and different one in my thoughts-
it's a very hard thing to do,
so i stopped and fell asleep.

in my dream the sea was calling me stupid and
i couldn't understand why-i was sitting on a bench
reading a book on the shoreline and it kept saying,
"stupid, stupid, stupid", like a mocking child or a
sh.itty parent, but then i realized i had the book
upside down and wasn't reading at all,
but still,
who knew the sea could be such an ass hole.

when i woke up i tried to remember being born,
but could only remember a tree i climbed when i was
8 years old, first i remembered a birch tree,
but then i thought it may have been an elm,
and then i thought that it wasn't a tree at all that i climbed,
but just the 3 or 4 steps i had to climb to get on top of my
bunk bed-it's hard to trust your memories,
i'd trade all mine for someone else's future,
that's just the cynic in me,
no one takes him seriously,
not even his mother or
jesus.

a portrait of myself hangs on the ceiling above my bed,
i like to just stare at it sometimes to get a better
vision of what other people are seeing when they
look at me-it's not such an awful sight,
i don't think,
it has to be a little bit better than looking at that
god damn sea at least.

sylvia dresses amidst all of this,
she brushes her hair and
shaves her legs and
cooks me breakfast,
she goes to work and comes home
and then goes back again,
i never leave my bed, only sometimes,
or i just take it with me everywhere,
i like to be comfortable,
i like to stuff my shirt with feathers so at
any point in the day when i'm feeling tired i can just
lay about anywhere and feel like i'm
in bed again,
i like to confess little things that don't need
confessing,
do you know who i am?
a self portrait of a portrait of a
portrait of a man-
i get lost sometimes,
not anywhere in particular,
but just everywhere and in
everything-
you have to know what i mean.
#2
It's 4:30 AM in Australia, and If I tried, I wouldn't be able to produce a coherent and intelligible critique of this piece. I've read it once through, reserving this place to crit it in the morning

I do like what I see so far though. You definitely have a talent
Music is an art form that celebrates potential. So long as you're looking for it, you'll always find it.
#4
This is so.. deep - You have a fluidity in your writing, masterfully crafting the visual scene and you do it in a way that people can relate to, like

"drinking water, wearing blue slippers and
reading the paper instead of wearing
no slippers and staring at the forest, "

I really feel quite unqualified to critique this, I'm simply in awe of this piece, most of your work, actually. The only thing I can suggest is that theres a few uncapitalised 'I's' and such, but reading it they seem intentional to give it an exhausted tone - like a monologue spoken before passing out: Is it intentional?
P.S - the "shitty parent" line made me laugh
Music is an art form that celebrates potential. So long as you're looking for it, you'll always find it.
#6
Absolutely loved this.
If you don't mind, I believe I'll send a close friend of mine a link to this so she can enjoy it as well.
Promises meant a lot back then.
#9
oh very nice matthew. this is really nice to see from you. i hope you're on a kick again.
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist




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