Words to Tie to Bricks (6 page)

C
AELEN
F
ELLER

Birds sit on the wire outside.

They can feel the cold.

It has been in the air for years.

Predatory by nature,

It bites them, takes those weakest.

The birds have no warm jumpers,

They have no mittens.

They’ve lost them, I’m sure.

I think how cold they must be.

I feel it – it chills me as I watch them.

They’re only birds.

Not real people, I know.

When a person is taken,

People care.

We watch them as they go.

A frozen bird is surrounded,

By other birds, those who care.

Watching, I am fascinated.

My mind wanders.

I’m with the birds.

My head is in clouds.

It begins to snow again,

The snow covers the bird in a shroud,

Buries it.

I mourn with the birds.

C
ONOR
K
ELLEHER

Sit,

Ink,

Pen,

Fold,

Envelope,

Send.

Wait.

Receive,

Open,

Read,

Cry,

Crumple,

Toss,

Burn.

G
RACE
C
OLLINS

M
AYBE
,
JUST MAYBE
, I’
LL COME
home. In a physical sense I’ve never left but really I’ve
been gone for years. My body still walks around, smiling and making small talk when needed. But it’s hollow and empty; there is no passion in it. You see once upon a time, I heard of these
wonderful things and I told myself stories of what would and what could happen if I was brave. I started to feel like I needed to chase these dreams, each sentence drawing me slightly closer to
where I thought I should be. And I started to see the dangers of the world and the darkness along the path that laughed an evil laugh, but it intrigued me and I needed to know more. I thought that
I could bring back the light that had been so kind to me. The light that had held my hand and made me smile. But in the dark I started to see things in people. It was as if their flaws had been
painted onto their front. And it scared me; what if I became like them? But I wanted to know more about them, and how they let this happen, so I kept going.

I asked the dark about the light and the smiles it brought and why people here are afraid of the darkness. And it drew me in, it kissed my lonely lips and filled me with fables and stories and
told me what I could be and it made me its lover but all the while it was weighing me down, ready to throw me in for the vultures.

The light tried to warn me. But it all seemed so easy and simple and I thought I was in control. I thought that good things were soon to come. One day my foot got stuck in a root of an old tree.
The tree laughed at me for falling and let its roots curl up around my leg, making its way to my torso until it consumed my whole body. Then it squeezed me tighter and tighter, crunching my bones
and making my eyes go pop and it didn’t stop as I screamed and tried to escape its grasp. But when I stopped trying to break free, it passed me from root to branch until I was at its tallest
limb. Here it let me swing like a pendulum, it let the fear of falling grow and grow and then it let that fear grow to hope. And when it knew that I was wishing and dreaming of falling it placed me
down gently and let me be. It knew that this was a much worse fate than falling. I continued on my way, being drawn in with hope and idealistic little dreams of what could be.

The road has ended now. I ask my friend the darkness where it is, to help me, and it laughs. And it laughs and laughs and the trees join it and the shadows join them and soon everyone is
laughing but me. And I don’t understand. And then I see that I have been fading; I’m not the person I started out as. I am the darkness and I am the badness. I am the coldness and I am
the fear. I have become all that I was afraid of and that does not make me brave or strong. It makes me weak and fragile. I can see that I could not bring back the light, I’ve been made
feeble by the dark. And I can see now that nothing was real. And what now? Nothing. I am nothing and I shall never return. Maybe I don’t want to and maybe I don’t deserve to.

Maybe this is my home.

H
ANNAH
O’B
OYLE

Inkless white paper.

I cannot think of the words

to bring you to me.

E
MMA
S
HEVLIN

I don’t know how I found you,

Hidden among the trees.

We’ve started our new journey,

And must follow the gentle breeze.

It carries the pieces with it,

The shards that are my heart,

Over to greener pastures.

I’ve come back to the start.

A beginning where I am whole,

A canvas awaiting the paint

To give the plain some colour

Even if those hues are faint.

Fly with me among the clouds,

We’ll soar and twist and turn.

We’ll dance among the shining rays,

Be careful not to burn.

E
MMA
S
HEVLIN

There’s a spark down deep inside,

It pricks as sharp as pins.

It makes me feel alive for once,

Lets me forget my sins.

This feeling rushing through me,

Ignites my every cell

Because for these few minutes

I’ve broken from the shell.

I’m not the one called stupid.

The little girl known as innocent.

I can be the one you’ve wanted,

A moment’s bliss ...

That has been spent.

Because I am alone again,

The moment has gone by,

But I won’t crumble to pieces.

I would not dare to cry.

I am like a jam jar

With the lid screwed extra tight,

Locked up in a cupboard

Somewhere to the right.

I’m better off out of sight.

C
AELEN
F
ELLER

We see a sea of faces,

Their features pressed against the glass,

Dulled eyes lost in monotonous grey.

We move so fast on this train.

But we must shut the Doors tightly

To keep the faces out.

For an unsettling truth is descending.

The windows are fracturing,

The hinges rusting.

The Doors are opening.

And their fingers are what pull

And pry them apart.

Dust gathers on the tracks,

It catches in the wheels.

A
NDREW
D
UFFY

I
T
’
S QUITE ROMANTIC
,
ISN
’
T IT
– the idea of immortality? The
notion that one individual could, in spite of all odds, withstand the test of time and live into infinity. Think of all the glorious wonders you could achieve. You could change the world. Heal it,
improve it, teach the countless generations you would live through how to build a utopia. Or you could go down the path of control and domination – due to the lack of knowledge and experience
that mortals suffer from, you could easily control the planet for the everlasting duration of your lifespan. You could control anyone; you will certainly encounter enemies but you will also possess
the time and knowledge to punish and torture them.

But perhaps the one who suffers the most in your infinite lifespan is you yourself. All that you grow to love and cherish during your time will wither and die while you remain fit and alive. The
music that comforts you will only play for several decades. The sports and games you have developed a fondness for will eventually change until they are almost unrecognisable. The languages you
acquired during your endless travels will become gibberish in several hundred years. All these vast changes will occur until you are left feeling alone, empty and helpless, adrift in the currents
of time. There you will be in a cold ocean of infinity where one can truly say, ‘I am alone.’ Believe me when I say I know. You don’t make friends when you’re an immortal
jellyfish.