I pray for the day that you shall die
When in my heart, you are nothing more than a fading memory.
I pray for the day I shall smell your rotting corpse
in the earth that is me,
When the worms shall devour you and make me fertile.....
There shall be no dirge,
No church bells re-echoing pain.....
No ceremony,
No casket carried out,
No wreaths laid at your grave...
The children shall play in street corners,
Running away from the incessantly nagging mothers.
The men shall drink overly much and throw drunken tantrums
And I shall cry,
Happy happy tears
As I take a piss on your decaying carcass
Friday, April 24, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
What’s done in the dark
She gathers up her clothes, half afraid to look at him
Sticky with sweat, with him
The sweet agony of seconds back forgotten,
In it’s place; shame and misery.
He grunts, sighs and turns dreaming perhaps of someone else,
She sneaks past leaving behind a candle
Glowing unceremoniously in the dark.
Alone. Cold.
He jabs his arm, swears loudly, tries again
In a corner lying forgotten, his crooked spoon
Black from over use.
He finds the vein, swears then groans; part pain, part pleasure
The needle joins the spoon on the floor
He rises, soaring high, leaving behind a candle
Brilliant flame, burning bright and true
Penetrating the darkness.
I lie in my bed
Warm, snug, fed
Looking at the moon through my window
Haunted by memories that linger
Praying for relief, the comfort of forgetfulness
Neither comes.
On my wall
Shadows of roaring flames
Burning, burning
Reaching higher and higher
I shut my eyes tightly and fall into a troubled sleep.
At dawn we all rise,
Her, Him, Me
Last night’s fires seemingly gone,
Covered by cheery smiles that belie our guilt……
Inside, the flames rage on
Burning high and fierce
Smoking, staining us with soot on the inside
We are all slaves.
Then night comes again.
Sticky with sweat, with him
The sweet agony of seconds back forgotten,
In it’s place; shame and misery.
He grunts, sighs and turns dreaming perhaps of someone else,
She sneaks past leaving behind a candle
Glowing unceremoniously in the dark.
Alone. Cold.
He jabs his arm, swears loudly, tries again
In a corner lying forgotten, his crooked spoon
Black from over use.
He finds the vein, swears then groans; part pain, part pleasure
The needle joins the spoon on the floor
He rises, soaring high, leaving behind a candle
Brilliant flame, burning bright and true
Penetrating the darkness.
I lie in my bed
Warm, snug, fed
Looking at the moon through my window
Haunted by memories that linger
Praying for relief, the comfort of forgetfulness
Neither comes.
On my wall
Shadows of roaring flames
Burning, burning
Reaching higher and higher
I shut my eyes tightly and fall into a troubled sleep.
At dawn we all rise,
Her, Him, Me
Last night’s fires seemingly gone,
Covered by cheery smiles that belie our guilt……
Inside, the flames rage on
Burning high and fierce
Smoking, staining us with soot on the inside
We are all slaves.
Then night comes again.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Drama in real life part 2: The kiss
"What makes you so sure I'm made of stone and how sure are you that I don't feel the same way?"
I can hear my heart in my ears, that deafening sound of half fear half relief that comes when two people admit they are attracted to each other. The knowledge that what happens next is left completely to chance and fate.
He holds me then, the moment seems endless, I feel myself rise and my heart beats louder at every new height. In his eyes I can see the fire that I know is the reason my eyes are stinging.
"Go"
He mouths it almost painfully, like they very thought of me comlpying is death in itself. I stand confused, speechless and slowly we walk, through the door, out onto the dirt road, hand in hand not saying a word.
I ask him to say something, any thing. The tension is so thick it can be cut.
"There's really nothing to say"
He puts my hand and his into the pocket of his sweat shirt, I feel a fresh tinge of warmth at the gesture. He is different but it's nice....
Later, I dream of his eyes, their intense penetration that scares me half to death and yet now, that I cannot live without.
Saturday, I'm hanging with my girls, all I see is their lips moving, I can't hear their words. I feel transported to a place that only I seem to see. Him. I hate him and what he is doing to me. I'm in a club, music is blaring,dancing sweaty bodies everywhere. Him again, in my head, in my blood. I hate it. I'm on the phone with him, silly excuse about a book which I suddenly need.... urgently.
I'm at his home in a few, wondering what possessed me to com, feeling the old familiar happy fear. He lets me in and again, there are no words, everything said with just one look. I feel cramped, claustrophobic, I check to see if the windows are open, they are. I sit. I stand and begin to pace. I sit again and in his eyes I see laughter. He sees my anxiety and is amused by it.
Times passes; a minute? an hour? Two? I don't know..... Somehow it doesn't matter. I know in that instant it's now or never. It happens so fast I barely have time to catch my breath....
Hands, hearts, breath, lips, tongue, darkness, pleasure. Nothing is awkward, no fidgeting wondering where the hands should be placed, just primitive impulses,; no restrain, no control, just desire and the need for it to be satisfied. Nothing one pictures in a first kiss, usually those are supposed to be chaste and sweet, awkward and experimental.... It was nothing like that. No, it wasn't. And then, things got out of control....
To be continued........
I can hear my heart in my ears, that deafening sound of half fear half relief that comes when two people admit they are attracted to each other. The knowledge that what happens next is left completely to chance and fate.
He holds me then, the moment seems endless, I feel myself rise and my heart beats louder at every new height. In his eyes I can see the fire that I know is the reason my eyes are stinging.
"Go"
He mouths it almost painfully, like they very thought of me comlpying is death in itself. I stand confused, speechless and slowly we walk, through the door, out onto the dirt road, hand in hand not saying a word.
I ask him to say something, any thing. The tension is so thick it can be cut.
"There's really nothing to say"
He puts my hand and his into the pocket of his sweat shirt, I feel a fresh tinge of warmth at the gesture. He is different but it's nice....
Later, I dream of his eyes, their intense penetration that scares me half to death and yet now, that I cannot live without.
Saturday, I'm hanging with my girls, all I see is their lips moving, I can't hear their words. I feel transported to a place that only I seem to see. Him. I hate him and what he is doing to me. I'm in a club, music is blaring,dancing sweaty bodies everywhere. Him again, in my head, in my blood. I hate it. I'm on the phone with him, silly excuse about a book which I suddenly need.... urgently.
I'm at his home in a few, wondering what possessed me to com, feeling the old familiar happy fear. He lets me in and again, there are no words, everything said with just one look. I feel cramped, claustrophobic, I check to see if the windows are open, they are. I sit. I stand and begin to pace. I sit again and in his eyes I see laughter. He sees my anxiety and is amused by it.
Times passes; a minute? an hour? Two? I don't know..... Somehow it doesn't matter. I know in that instant it's now or never. It happens so fast I barely have time to catch my breath....
Hands, hearts, breath, lips, tongue, darkness, pleasure. Nothing is awkward, no fidgeting wondering where the hands should be placed, just primitive impulses,; no restrain, no control, just desire and the need for it to be satisfied. Nothing one pictures in a first kiss, usually those are supposed to be chaste and sweet, awkward and experimental.... It was nothing like that. No, it wasn't. And then, things got out of control....
To be continued........
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Truth
Is it wrong of me to want to be close to a heart that makes me smile,
Hands that embrace me,
Faith that makes me walk for miles?
Would you judge me if I clung to love that made my soul leap,
Hope that chased my fears,
Patience that made me rise from a messy mound?
Maybe I am searching for too much too soon,
Begging questons that need not be answered,
Biting off more than I can chew,
Rending sinews anew....
You are my solace
You odd wretched thing,
You who in the same breath beckons and banishes.
In the labyrinth of you I have found my heart's rest
And nolonger do I roam baseless and seemingly abandoned.
Oh, but you will be the death of me!
For where you build, also do you tear down,
Where you plant, also do you scatter weed that strangles and suffocates...
You give me a voice
Then stifle it when I try to sing,
Ask me to drink from your boundless well
Then dip poison in the very drops I sip....
I cannot bear your heartless torture,
It tears me apart.
Still, I can never, ever leave you.
Hands that embrace me,
Faith that makes me walk for miles?
Would you judge me if I clung to love that made my soul leap,
Hope that chased my fears,
Patience that made me rise from a messy mound?
Maybe I am searching for too much too soon,
Begging questons that need not be answered,
Biting off more than I can chew,
Rending sinews anew....
You are my solace
You odd wretched thing,
You who in the same breath beckons and banishes.
In the labyrinth of you I have found my heart's rest
And nolonger do I roam baseless and seemingly abandoned.
Oh, but you will be the death of me!
For where you build, also do you tear down,
Where you plant, also do you scatter weed that strangles and suffocates...
You give me a voice
Then stifle it when I try to sing,
Ask me to drink from your boundless well
Then dip poison in the very drops I sip....
I cannot bear your heartless torture,
It tears me apart.
Still, I can never, ever leave you.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
My abyss
It's funny waking up one morning and feeling like you've lost your identity, the very essence of who you are or the only thing you knew yourself by. Actually, no, it's not funny. It's tragic. You feel like a veil has been draw over all you knew and you lost in some weird mist type thing..... Ok, whatever, I'm having a bad day. Every one suddenly seems so in love with me except the love of my life for 6 bleeding years, I'm starting to have the feeling that at the rate that I'm going, I'll probaby end up being one of those freaky hermit spinster chicks with all the cats..... I feel strangely lost, as if I'm losing some element of myself that I can't quite put my finger on..... Falling and waiting ever so desparately to be caught.... My best friend (or my person as I prefer to call him) and I had a fight because he says I'm losing the insensitivity that he found the most appealing aspect when we had just met. It is true but who even says that to anyone? Got to crash, then catch up with a mountain of work that is driving me half to death. I need to breath. Desparately.
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