Open Your Eyes.

Storey Art.

Open Your Eyes.

3/5/22

Open Your Eyes.

I'm under your control, or over your throw. And if you force fed me these pills. I’d find the trust in all. I never thought that the words you weave would sit across the room. I removed my mouth. And you kept talking. It’s amazing to say the day passes. Can I have something nice? Tell me what you want.

What's left to say. What's left to do with these broken pieces on the floor?

The man standing outside had said… Someone was running down the street, If anything the market will be around next week. I wondered to get my W5 Wipes. And my Holborn Yellow 3 in 1. I was asked to fill out a survey. There was holes in fences, kids playing. Sun and sand.

Breathe formed control. That’s where the mouth returned. An exhale. Of course they expect you to stay down. You complained, there was murders in the town. There was a food donation through the door. Dust myself down, pick myself up. Feed me those pills again. I breathe once more. And I swear i’ve seen this movie before. And words paddled they became a picnic.

The man outside was given fears. His phone went and he got no reply. He was muttering about plans in Hawick. He was chasing the sun, taking a map of my heart. He was a stranger. I got told to stay away.

So I asked.

You said, it was something like a reflection. I’m like a film stuck on pause. Throw me to the walls. Don’t need your sympathy, I am above. My god I don’t need you. We bleed in our formula, And we craft our control once more. I won’t wait for you to come around. I expect you to tie what comes around. Didn't you hear me loud and clear?

I don't need your love.

I wonder when I will hit the ground.

Here I am.

Arran Storey.

Digital Photograph.

Dimensions.

4096 x 2730