Benjamin Shaw


My grandpa used to claim that eating spinach would make me taller, but his suit pants are still too long for me now. He would say keep your eyes on the ball when I was looking up at his blue eyes instead. Later on, his decaying brain taught me there’s no such thing as a perfect blue. But still, I’ve looked for it outside my bedroom window, daring those dog years and never crying. Not even at his funeral (I kept my eyes on the pall). You ever think about what you’d do if you were buried alive? Me neither, unless you call regret a kind of dirt. What he forgot to tell me: take your time, or else you’ll lose eighteen years under your fingernails. The second time I watched Perfect Blue was déjà vu because the first time I was so wasted it became a dream. Now that’s a metaphor, like how you could probably sew something killer with my intestines, if only I stopped holding them in. Everyone I know has dreamt of losing teeth. Do we dream in metaphor, too? Eating more spinach could cure this. Everyone I know has dreamt of a blue wattle flower, but there’s only one of them left in the world.






























Perfect  Blue
By Benjamin Shaw
Benjamin Shaw is a creative writing student from Naarm who loves the nighttime, his friends, and learning new words. 'Perfect Blue' is about feeling trapped in the sticky feeling of regret.




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