william-a-bruce

[william-a-bruce]

Her message reads “i love you xxx”

Hollow words carefully picked to tease me and bend me, wrap me around her little finger ever tighter.

“i love you xxx”

Three of the most dangerous words in the universe.

She’s living so far away, the distance shielding her for any potential fallout of my heart cracking in the face of the truth.

“i love you xxx” used to keep me on the leash, ready to make use of my few talents at a moments notice for the potential score of those three words typed from her indifferent thumbs.

I can taste the lies. I know the words are false.

But I yearn for them

As I yearn for her…

#writing #thinking #practice #love #poem #life #shame

[william-a-bruce]

Bee

Oh to be a bumble bee, so little and so free.

To bask in the sun light and dance on petals.

Be held ever still and gentle in the palm of a giant.

To carry the dew drops of life to far off places.

Oh to be a bumble be, to bumble home and bumble free.

#writing #original poem #bee #poem #thinking #practice #work in progress #bumble bee

[william-a-bruce]

What it must be like, to feel safe and loved. To be surrounded by friends, people that know you and care without judgement or worry.

To be embraced for all that you are, inside and out. To laugh and dance and enjoy without fear of embarrassment or questions of sanity.

Basking in sun beams to recharge and be at peace and in tune with the universe.

The drink and be merry with friends in a warm living room while the rain and wind howl just beyond the window.

What magic that must be.

#writing #thinking #platonic #love #dreaming

[william-a-bruce]

I think about thinking too much.

I think about writing more than I spend anytime actually writing.

Consider the stories I might tell, or life I might document.

I intimidate myself with my own ambition, my lust for some kind of success - whatever that means.

I day dream on the fantasy of a life admired, born of talent or something...

Perhaps, in a time not so far from now, I will find some peace with my life. Perhaps one day I'll be less dramatic.

#writing #mending #thoughts #thinking

[william-a-bruce]

considering love

There’s an image in my mind. It’s crops up every so often, a simple, plain, dreadfully lovely image. 

A woman sitting at a table, she’s beautiful, wearing a sleek summer dress. Nursing a glass of white wine, or maybe a g’n’t, maybe a Pimms with one hand. Her other lay on her lap. 

I, or some version of myself, a better version.

A version whom lacks my flaws appears from behind her. He approaches. And wraps himself over her, one hand going to the table for support, the other crossing her chest and holding her shoulder. 

She stops whatever she’d been doing, talking to someone else in the room maybe.

He eyes close gently, and she tilts her head back into his embrace. Her free hand rising from her lap to his hand upon her shoulder. Her other hand departing the glass to meet his support. 

He’s curled over her, like a protective shell. A gentle kiss atop her forehead. 

There is peace. There is care. There is love. 

It’s all in a moment, not some fleeting expression that must be savoured. No, this is a common expression for this pair. 

Something he never thought himself capable of. Time stops for them. And as quickly as he found himself pulled into her orbit, he slinks away, his own beverage in hand. Her gaze returning to whomever it was she was speaking with. Him trailing off to find a snack or talk to someone else. 

A life of charm and care. 

#writing #just daydreaming #inner thoughts #nostalgic #my thoughts #romantic

[william-a-bruce]

mirror

I try to avoid mirrors, reflections in general.

I'm never sure what I'll find in them. That fear of the unknown rearing its head once again.

But every so often I'm forced to gaze into that glass, that would threaten me with a revelation or reminder. I'm not quite thirty yet, though the clock counts down ever closer with each passing beat.

It's always a minor shock when I see myself. I just don't look like I think I do, jaw rounder, hair frizzier, eyes... More tired. There isn't anything behind the eyes these days. So spark of excitement at what the coming day might hold. No. This day has started at two in the afternoon, the morning is lost. And the chances are high that two in the morning will be the call time for slumber. Efforts might be made to sleep earlier than that, but they will be quickly defeated by the little slab of light that grants access to the world at large.

Disappointment. That's what greets me in mirrors. Surprise that some guest is there looking at me, what happened to this man to be so worn down so early in life? I should know, surely. But I don't, whatever the answers may be, they're lost to me, far out of reach. Buried in some deep place, I might stumble upon them one day, or be buried along side them. Only time will tell on that matter.

I don't know that I would want to know this face looking back at me, that their pain might somehow infect me. But that's a thought quickly washed away with the realisation that it is in fact me, I am the cause of infection on the mirror. It isn't the mirror's fault it looks so sad. The mirror is a neutral party in the truest sense.

Should probably start moisturising more regularly...

#writing #my thoughts #sad thoughts

[william-a-bruce]

hello again

I haven't been here for a long time.

It feels a bit like returning to a home you haven't visited in an age. You grew up there, some years of your life spend seeping into the walls and leaking out of the windows. Meals after school eaten in the tiny kitchen with mum, the cats circling your ankles seeking a donation. The clutter up the stairs keeping the carpet from being strew with dust.

But you're bigger now, shoulders broader, back aching. You almost hit your head on the ceiling as you ascend the stairs to your old bedroom. First door on the left as you reach the top. There isn't anywhere else to go, the landing is a one by one space, a wall to the right. Mum's room in front, and your door to the left.

The door creeps open, but it's empty.

Blank white walls and worn beige carpet marked with the echoes of the life you once lived here. That was three houses ago now. When things were a little simpler, a bit easier.

There's a beard where the zits used to sprout. Fingers numbed over from the added years of doing a bad John Mayer impression. Indents in the carpet where your bed stood, where that old crusty amp lived in the corner, a friend of your mum's found it in a garage they took over and thought you could make some use of it. You never did, it spends its time in a different garage now.

It was warm here once. Even when it was cold, somehow you got by. But it leaked out of the windows just as you did in the end. And now you only come back here to hide, for fear of what the future might hold.

But enough wallowing in the depths of your self pity. Save some for another time.

For now just say hello, hello to the space you used to breathe in.

Hello.

#hello tumblr #writing #i'm back #writerscorner #practice #nostalgic #nostaligiacore #new writter #personal #my thoughts