Posted by Robyn Hawkins under
prose Leave a Comment
I found this written on a piece of paper in my room earlier:
The November gloom drags in with it heavy sighs and distant memories of days almost forgotten. The happiness of those days has long since turned to sorrow with the changing of the seasons. A change that is, for the most part, an unwelcome one. Perhaps, though, there is some glimmer of hope. One opportunity not lost that will soon bring comfort to the winter days to restore some faith in humanity. Maybe. Or maybe the next season will come as this one did, with disappointment as an inevitability, and all good memories as just that; recollections, vague, and almost dream-like.
Posted by Robyn Hawkins under
relationships Leave a Comment
If you were paper I could cut you to pieces, but you are rock and you make me feel numb.
Yesterday, whilst waiting for St Trinian’s to come on, there was an advertisement for a film, I cannot remember what it was. But it had two of my favourite songs in it. On The Radio, by Regina Spektor, and The Magic Position, by Patrick Wolf. I need to find out what it was.
Posted by Robyn Hawkins under
general Leave a Comment
I barely even feel anything anymore.
Posted by Robyn Hawkins under
poetry 1 Comment
Magician
Can you take me
Away?
I’m tired of being here
Magician
Take the thoughts from
My head
I’m tired of thinking
Magician
Can you make it
Better?
I think I’ve had enough
Posted by Robyn Hawkins under
poetry,
relationships 1 Comment
You traced my outline on the wall
You thought I had the right look
Maybe you would have thought differently
Had you known it was me
If you haven’t forgotten I exist
And maybe one day you’ll remember me
As that girl you once knew
But not quite remember
Where you knew me from
I’d like to think it will be different
Posted by Robyn Hawkins under
general 1 Comment
I don’t believe that I have any.
PS My computer is fixed.
