The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth


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The Smoke & The Dark

Last night I dreamed I was standing alone in a cold, gaping darkness. A darkness that seemed unending until the harsh click of a lighter echoed through the abyss and filled the shadows with its intense light. A single enormous flame spurted upwards and flooded the plane around me with relentless waves of heat, flickering at my body with red-hot tongues. Using my jacket sleeve as a protection for my eyes, I peered forward into the flame to see where it had come from.

Suddenly from behind a cigarette appeared and leant forward into the lighter, thirstily lapping up the fire until the end had stolen some of the flames. Then from behind a face appeared, one I vaguely recognised but in my slumber was unfocused so as to hide from me. Lips latched around the opposite end of the cigarette and inhaled deeply, greedily feasting on the contents within. The embers flared a blood red that gleamed mockingly in the darkness, and as the user exhaled a rush of ash and smoke tumbled out of the edges and surrounded the both of us in a dark, menacing cloud..

A storm of thick ash engulfed me, filling my lungs and pricking at my eyes until I was bent over coughing, tears streaming out of my eyes in tiny waterfalls. My throat wailed and shrivelled in pain from the torments of the smoke, and as I looked up to call out to the looming face in front of me my voice caught and came out only as a raspy whisper. Desperately I coughed to try to clear my throat so I could warn the face of the smoke’s dangers but it simply poured through my throat, seeping through my blood like poison and scratching and scraping at my insides. I forced my eyes open despite the burning hot ash that fluttered dangerously around me so I could watch the huge figure above.

His face was covered in ash that engrained itself like an iron-master forging fiery patterns into his skin until it was gnarled and sunken. The flicker of flames against his cheek gave him an almost skeletal appearance as he suckled ravenously on the seemingly never-ending cigarette. Smoke coiled and curled around his features, creating a thick noose around his neck that slowly tightened with each breath of smoke that quivered outwards from his wrinkled lips. His pupils had nearly swamped his whole eyes and were as dark as our surroundings, filled with a malicious desire for the devilish taste of the cigarette.  He was drawing his own death sentence without even realising it, and as I tried to call out to him I noticed suddenly the smoke held me in a noose too and my throat was clenched so tight I could not utter a single syllable. I flailed my arms and legs around me in a frantic attempt to free myself from its iron grip to no avail.

Terrified, my eyes widened as tears prickled behind the eyelids and I tried to capture a few clean breaths. My body was slowly becoming weak, the smoke infecting me with its slow taunting spread. Suddenly the smoker stopped; lowered the cigarette to stub it out. The last few embers were beaten down, and I felt the noose around my neck tighten one last fatal time. As I felt a last splutter of breath escape my lips, we plunged into a cold, unending darkness and I closed my eyes, waiting for it all to be over.


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A Love Affair with Eyes

There’s something about eyes that just captivates me. When a mask is carved and placed expertly over a face to create a void of emotion, eyes are the one things that consistently shine through and show how we really feel, who we truly are. Out of everything in a person, eyes always remain in my mind after the memory of a face has long since faded.

I love eyes of any colour, wide and child-like or small and scrutinising. I love eyes that are seas you could drown in, with hazy flecks of colours swimming through their gentle following colour. I love eyes surrounded by paths of crinkles and wrinkles that tell of a thousand frowns and a thousand smiles. I love eyes with glints of secrets shrouded within, the ghost of stories yet untold hiding and waiting to be discovered. I love eyes that express more than words and a smile ever could; eyes that create a memory so vivid it engrains itself into our very minds. I love the eyes of children, filled with innocent delight and an unending curious gleam. I love the eyes of the older, brimming with tears spilled and frothing with laughter, bright, wise sparks of life in a wrinkled, ageing face. I love how every eye sees the world in a different way, and how no two eyes could ever look the same; eyes who have withheld the beauty of this world and have endured pain and sorrow, eyes that reflect every memory in a kaleidoscope of colour and brightness that I can’t help but fall for each time I look upon them.


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When It All Began

I can still remember that night as if it only just happened. You called me to come up to your house  after everyone had left, and I snuck out with my dog, claiming I was taking him for a walk.

Shivering from the cold, I stood and waited outside your house for you to come out, and when you appeared at the door, I just about fought the urge to break into a huge smile. When you came outside, you instantly noticed I was cold and wrapped your arms around me to stop me from shivering so much. I leaned into you, letting your arms wrap around me and burying my face into the soft scent of your hoody. And we stood there hugging in the cold autumn air, my dog sniffing absent-mindedly at our feet.

Eventually you broke the silence. ‘Remember that Thursday, you said I had to tell you if I ever liked you again?’

I nodded, my head still resting on your chest. “Yeah?’ I replied questioningly, unable to keep the shakiness out of my voice from the cold and the growing butterflies thundering inside me.

‘Well… I like you.’

I broke apart from you slightly, far enough so I could look up into your eyes.Up into those bright blue eyes I’d been daydreaming about for months. Up at you, the boy who had been my 11:11 wish, my last thought at night, my reason for smiling. The boy who had just uttered the three words I’d been waiting years to hear. I looked up at you, and then without a thought, I leaned in and I kissed you.

A short kiss, a sweet kiss. A kiss that threatened to make the butterflies explode from my chest and fill the sky like confetti. A kiss that took my breath away and left my body melting into yours. A kiss that sent a ricochet of goosebumps dancing down my spine. A kiss that whispered a thousand secrets and screamed ‘finally!’ into the crisp night sky.

We broke apart slowly, eyes locked. And I couldn’t keep the smile from escaping my lips this time as I stared at you giving me the same goofy smile back. Such a perfect smile, this time directed at me. Me. You like me.

‘Well it’s a good thing I like you back then, isn’t it?’