kaylaw

She’s perched atop the yellow plastic pyramid of a playground roof, knees pulled up against her chest.  Graffiti scrawls by various patients writhe about her toes; various obscenities and gang names worn by the passage of time. Loose wisps of her hair whip to and fro in the breeze. To her left, the hospital walls loom in layers of white and multicolours. To her right: the car park building and beyond that, the city's buildings with their neon advertisements.  She feels akin to the birds about her; wishes she were light and able to just up and float away from this reality. Featherless bird; sitting atop the playground of a children's ps

the words are etched into thick purple bands - cuffs coursing, caustic open, wide-eyed stranger i see a sentence in the mirror staring, the punctuation imperfect it accuses vehemently it is, it is my mind speaking in excess and marking permanently beneath the too-much, the waste the alkaline verses pulse pulling the fragments up and down the path of my tongue to nothing at all