dreams from the strawberry cityA Poem by amelie mjenjoy
I woke up with the word prozac on my lips.
aaaand i dreamt of london again and the city was swollen and the lights were red, traffic clutter and cinnabar bus shelter red i thought i heard a train smashing but it was only newspapers soaking up the nocturnal tempo of some underground night club some state of the art sound system, oh so modern oh so let's pretend to be an orchestra, hang cables from plastic pronounces, and they can be the v i o l i n s t rings wrap them around my ankles like cellophane garlands, they'll protect me from the sequinned miasma of drunken serenade songs of searing disco beams that splinter cans of beer into streams into eyes of some video-game fairground structure so i'll stride d o w n town and wear the city like a cloak, plait my hair with sky scrapers and paint extracted house plants on my wrists. sterilised vehicles to burn me a path, but before i can follow, the train has arrived, tick tick ticking and i. wake. up. © 2015 amelie mjAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthoramelie mjcity o' yr heart, United KingdomAbouthi i'm amelie and a lot of the time i do nothing but sometimes i sing and i like to pretend i'm a writer. hot chocolate enthusiast & recovering nutella addict// word nerd w. no remote interest in punc.. more..Writing
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