by Nicholas Antoniak
They’re fucking watching me I know it. Through their windows with their brilliant arrogant eyes that reek of the judgement I know they’ll try and bring. But I see the way colours flow through the days of August, and how the trees talk casually in the wind. Jealous. Hateful. Spiteful people. Just leave me alone. Alone. But the lamp looks bright in the corner and it’s making my head spin. Stop knocking. Stop leaving letters. I want to be left alone. In the dark with a canvas onto which I can spill my lifeblood and leave my final mark.
It would be magical.
But they can’t let you be wrong in a world full of rights can they? Arms getting prickly at the mere thought of you out there on the loose. Wild. Free. I’d run without clothes, you think we’re born with these? Because I see through your lies you bring nothing but judgement to my door.
I don’t need judgement though.
I need support, kindness, and a soft shoulder to lean on when it all gets too hard.
Nicholas Antoniak is an 18 year old emerging Australian writer. He writes both creative fiction, creative non-fiction and poetry. In July he will commence a bachelor of arts majoring in philosophy and sociology and hopes one day to become an author/poet/philosopher.