A collection of pieces from BA [Hons] Creative Writing.
Listen here: https://soundcloud.com/josefushaze/the-corridor
I can still hear the echoes of footsteps long since trodden How much forgotten leather has this floor devoured? How many would-be heroes unknowing zeros have scoured these high-walled halls calling out for something long lost to them? I am unconscious again Pacing, pacing Invasive, self-effacing confessions in the basement of a house with a south-facing garden Hardened eyes peer from the gloom In a room containing nought but I who once thought the sky a mile high, divinely inspired trick of the eye Knowing now, deep inside that a man and his mind can hide in the most childish of lies Snap shot Freeze frame framed and ingrained on the walls of a brain moving swiftly ever onward Pacing, pacing Embracing the chase Encased by racing wind further facing time and space in memories Never pleased standing still No sculptor of iron will could instill whimsical wilful thrill of emotion into cold, emotionless stone Still, alone in corridor’s stoney embrace Emaciated. Skin and bone Ever pacing, pacing, pacing Tracing ways in which to replace old pictures, old frames with a trace of something I can call my own When I need time When I need space Return to this place and pace, pace, pace
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