Missing You

Graffiti on the walls, 

The cracks in the sidewalk,

The lightswitches, the outlets, the wood.

Every step, every stone, every field and road,

Are burned into my memory.

My mind is wandering the streets of Leeds,

A floating brain, five feet and four inches above the ground.

Or rather a flying pair of eyes,

Twin keyholes that link me to another life,

But the keys I lost a year and a girl ago. 

The sights and smells and sounds and thoughts,

Forever locked behind the door of time,

But always shining through the keyhole

In the shape of happiness. 

That can’t be my conscience, it makes me insecure…

How do I get rid of that bitchy, suspicious, mean little person whispering in my ear and making me think badly of others for no reason?

To do: more soul searching. 

Sounds of Anger

Have you ever noticed how much emotion we put into slammed doors? 

It’s really windy out today, and all the windows are open, meaning that doors are blowing violently shut all over the house. Not only does it make me jump (every time), but I also automatically think someone’s really pissed. Because a slammed door is an indication of anger—but why?

I suppose it originated out of the animal ferocity to destroy everything in sight that comes with rage, and yet it’s become more than that…to slam a door behind you, or in someone’s face, is a signal to those around you that you’re mad. Sure, it feels good to throw doors around, but it’s also used as a convention now, so much so that I assume I did something to upset the wind when it slams my bedroom door. 

Interesting.

And what happens when the door doesn’t fit quite right in the frame? If the intention is there, but there’s no slam, does it still count as a signal of anger?