Monday, October 8, 2012

Stolen Portraits

Fumble and stagger through the wretched landscape which is my heart; I'm sorry that it's so deformed. Shriek and cover your eyes and I'm apologising for all the horrible things you see there. Shudder, writhe, hug yourself tight; if I had a choice, I wouldn't show you the dark secrets and twisted truths which lurk in the dusty places where no one has ever set foot. What did you expect when you picked a trip into my dreams? There are no barriers where you've gone.

I'll take the camera out and point it in your direction while you're looking the other way. There's no way you'll make it back into reality unscarred, so I should steal a picture of you while I can. And it's selfish of me, but I like it when you venture into my nightmares, because I feel less alone, and at any moment, the door knob might turn and we might walk into Wonderland. If you leave even the gentlest brush of yourself on my battered psyche, my whole life will be better, and I'll cherish the memory forever.


I'll photograph away until you're quite faded.

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