The maroon wallpaper was peeling near the corners, and in the eyes of everyone that surrounded me there was an odd blankness. The way they ghostly drifted across the room to each other, repeating the same meaningless conversations in the same dull, monotone voices deeply sickened me. My head began to swim as I felt the lifelessness begin to numb my attention, and I had to escape.
With the smoke slithering into my mouth as I inhaled the stale air, I stumbled for a way out, any door that could lead me away. My eyesight clouded as my mind began to dissipate in effort to dispel the wave of disgust that bubbled in my chest; by the time I stopped staggering, my mind was so far gone, I barely recognized where I had ended up.
The sudden echo of my motions slapping against the walls woke me, and the sour smell of sewage brought me into the realization that I had placed myself in the restroom. Taking advantage of where I was, I sauntered my way to the urinal, yellowed and cracked with age, and unzipped my jeans. I was hardly conscious of the cold draft blowing in from a nearby cracked window until I pulled out to relieve myself. Searching, I found the fogged window, with cobwebs resting in the corners and laced upon the glass, which was so dusty, I could not see the street beyond.
Suddenly, the back of my neck began to sting as I felt eyes staring directly upon me. Clenching my jaw tightly, I attempted to shake off the feeling of melancholic disarray. Closing my eyes for but a moment, my thoughts rewound through the last few months to a moment I shall always hold securely in my mind. Every detail, every whispered breath that she took, shall never be lost.
Just in the way my hand slid up her long, delicate back as I freed her from her dress had instilled such a feeling within me that the impression left could never fade. I lived in that memory. I am still there to this day, and all that had been of me since was simply a shell of a man who’s soul lived with someone else. I wished I could go back to this image, and live before time continued and brought me to this sinister place.
Finally opening my eyes, I rose my chin, oddly surprised to see my reflection gazing straight back, the image somehow too clear for the grimy mirror to have constructed, with the striking blue eyes settled right below my creased brow and my mouth twisted in a worried glower. I looked much more tired than I recalled feeling. I slowly sunk into my reflection, my memories pulling me from my body, and began to remember once more how she had traced her gentle finger down my broad nose and cupped my cheek in her adoring hand. Her touch still stirred along my skin. Memories, haunting memories bloomed like a black rose in the vast cavities of my chest. Deeply immersed in that trance, it required a strange exchange to tear me away. I suddenly felt vulnerable as I stood in that unkempt bathroom, and the abrupt voice that arose from behind me caused me to jump, while letting out a shout, as I grasped for the wall to keep me balanced. Yet, the hidden character continued speaking, which to my great surprise and gratitude meant that she had oddly not heard my pitiful yelp. The voice was raucous and ancient as the echo of it bounced off the hard, faded plastic of the stalls, creating an ominous quality to her speech.
“What’s this I see? A glimmer of love in those eyes? How dare you be so arrogant? You are nothing more than a spot of piss in the miles of pure snow. Empty yourself of this weakness, at once!” The strange cracking voice was from a woman, and it eerily reminded me of a witch’s screech from a fairy tale that I barely remembered from childhood. Much different than the first, the responding voice was like the fragile whimpering of a child, with a pained stuttering chocked between sobs.
“I… I’m sor…sorry. I didn’t…didn’t mean to. I ju…just wanted to feel… I wanted to feel real, for once.” The sloshing sound of liquid hitting liquid and the resonance of brash gagging told me that she had begun vomiting. I believe that her hand had rushed to the wall beside her, to keep her steady as her stomach lurched forward in vicious heaving motions, for a loud banging against the side of the stall followed her meager words.
“Oh, child, stupid, stupid child.” A coarse laugh sputtered from the older woman’s throat, and I imagined that dust fanned out from her cracked lips. “You must have learned by now. You are not worthy of being real. You are but a memory. But a single passing second in his life. Yes, you are an old tee-shirt that he decided to toss away after wearing for just one… last… time.”
A startling, rustling movement followed with a breathy gasp, and looking down, I see the younger woman’s foot slide out from beneath the stall door; the older woman apparently had pushed her closer to the toilet. “Do you see what comes from you? Do you see what you create? This is all you are. This bile that now drips from your pretty lips that’s painted red just for him. Do you smell your disgust in the chunks of your lunch, now lodged in your nose?”
“Ye…Yes. Please leave me be! I understand. I am noth…noth…nothing.”
“Say it like you believe it girl!”
“I am nothing.”
“I am impatient, child, SPEAK UP!”
“I AM NOTHING!” The forcefulness of her sob echoed painfully in my skull, ringing over and over again, poisoning my mind. Her words pinned me firmly against the soiled walls, with my arms spread to each side and my breathing heavy from the fear that triggered sweat to perspire upon my forehead and to stick to my neck. My eyes not being able to rest, they involuntarily twitched from side to side as the remainder of me stood anxiously frozen, not quite knowing what else to do. Her voice was more feeble as she continued, speaking through clinched teeth.
“I am nothing. And I have every right to thank you for helping me come to my senses.”
“As right you should! Miserable creature. You must never bite from the apple. It has done no woman any good. Now stand and compose yourself.”
The young woman’s foot scratched against the filth gathered upon the bathroom tile as she sniffed in her tears and stood up. Realizing my position much too late, I spun around facing the mirror, my face against the top of the urinal and my head hung down. I had every means to rush swiftly from the room, but my legs were shaking too rapidly and my mind was too dazed. I heard heels clicking, and the slow, screeching swing of the stall door opening, and I knew the women had emerged, and most likely had their glaring eyes set fiercely upon me.
No longer being able to hide, I turned slowly around, but to my surprise, I saw only one woman standing before me. I stuttered out a single syllable of confusion as I bluntly gaped back at her. She was pale with purple rings sagged under her hazed green eyes, and her dark raven hair was sloppily pulled up. Her lips, the only vibrant color on her figure, wore a shocking blood red hue that was smeared across her cheek as well as on the top of her hand, and her clothes sagged on her bony frame.
She wavered there like a puzzled phantom, but there she soundly stood, regarding me with stark uncertainty and a faintly growing anger with her head cocked somewhat to the side. Risking movement, I leaned slightly over to glance behind her, just to make sure that there really was no other person. I wasn’t mistaken, there wasn’t anyone else. She was alone the whole time. Scuffing my shoes against the floor, I uneasily scurried away, but right before I heard the door slap behind me, I saw her frail, rigid body unnaturally bent over one of the urinals as her meager voice mumbled to herself, “My, what strange sinks these are…”
April 5, 2008
Strange Conversation
A Gothic Tale
There is no greater rejection than that of the human heart, and so Damian hid himself in the darkness of the most impersonal, dreary New York flat. Brooding, lumbering through the sickly rain, he made his retreat to the chapel in the depths of 26th street. The rain pattering on the ground reminded him of dancing in the rain as a child, of times when he was happy. Though these memories of past times only instilled another cringing fit of crippling sorrow inside his chest.
He walked through the rusted gates, swinging open with a sharply screaming screech. The walkway was hidden under chilling puddles, splashing under his black, clicking shoes. His eyes scanned around him and flashes of vividly colored memories sparked against his mind as if on an aged projection screen. A bird bath filled with clear water had invited him, as a child, to cup the cooling liquid in his smooth, innocent hands. Conversation had buzzed and flitted through the churchyard. He remembered his mother's laugh, so much like Rebecca's. Suddenly, his thoughts immediately switched over to images of her.
Oh, how her eyes gleamed when her face lit up as a chirping giggle sang out, pushed out from her beautiful breasts. She decorated her long chestnut locks with violet flowers; she always smelled of lavender and vanilla.
Lightning flashed, cracking through the sky, shocking Damian out of his fruitless dreams. The graveyard was no longer fluttered with blooming buds, but the yard was sunken with continuous rain, dark and foreboding. The forgotten headstones cracked as if in anger, born from all those vacant years in solitude.
How could such a joyful place grow into this melancholic church scene?
He could not imagine the ancient church had once held his loving parents' marriage. The crooked door creaked as he pushed through. Dust sputtered upon the air, chocking Damian, his coughs ricocheted of the heavily walls, the stones faded with time. Strangely enough he spied a candle lit in an empty corner, the light not spreading to the air, chocked by darkness too heavy for light to penetrate. Yet, the dim light provided enough clarity for Damian to observe a cross, swollen and twisted, deformed by each storm that had past resulting in the repetitive drops which fell from the caved in roof.
Not being able to tear his eyes from the gnarled cross, silence drained and pressed against his drumming ears. Time paused motionless and dead until wings fluttered between the rafters of the church. A wind whistled through the decaying walls, blowing out the burning candle. Heart pounding against his ribcage, he breathed heavily while spinning around, his soaked pea coat slapping his legs, and in the far corner near the entrance, he witnessed a flash of a figure skitting through the darkness.
"Hello? Anyone there?" his deep, rustic voice billowed in the empty church. Backing up, he placed his hand against one of the rotten pews. Leaning against it, a three inch long splinter stabbed into his palm. Screaming out in pain, Damian drew his hand to his face, attempting to see the damage. He could feel the warm blood oozing down his wrist in thick streams, and he could smell the sharp, metallic smell arising into the air from his wound.
Empty streets stretched between Damian and the large bell which rang, announcing midnight. Hearing this toll, he shook his head as if to dispel the eerie aura surrounding him. He had been hoping to rekindle, at least, some ounce of happiness or hope, but instead he only found the dead, rundown church of which he now stood inside, as if inside the stomach of a beast.
Finally, he breathed out in a gruff tone, "I need to get the hell out of here." Heading towards the door, a silky voice paused him in his step.
"I really would like to disagree." The soothed sound was a woman's voice. Turning around Damian saw that the candle was relit and standing in the light was a tall, thin woman with striking raven colored hair, cut short and tattered. Her dark hair complemented and brightened her clear, blue eyes. Her lips were naturally scarlet against her pale skin. He couldn't stop staring; she was stunningly more attractive than anyone he had ever come across before. His head became light as if it were floating above his shoulders, and his thoughts became jumbled
"Who are you?" he spat out in stutters and pauses.
"Who I am is of no importance Damian. The night has ended, and you haven't found what you destined out for." Her voice was melodic and poured into the air in a thick and sweet manner, reminding him of honey dripping through the space between them. As she spoke, her body strode towards him, her hips swaying side to side in a seductive manner. As she neared him, he could smell her intoxicating scent of sugar and sweat, and by the time she was close enough to see his own perspiring glands, he was drunk with her presence.
Immobile and entranced, he replied, "H…H…How do you, um, know, my…"
Placing her finger against his full lips, she whispered, "Shhhhh, quiet Damian. Relax. All will be well."
Her cold finger, once taken away, left his lips tingling, almost as if it was still there. He blinked and shook his head to attempt to clear his heavy mind, but each time she said his name, he seemed more in her control. As the seconds passed, he took in her delicate, angular face, and decided he'd let her do so. Perhaps she'd make him feel loved, even if temporarily, for tonight. That is what he truly desired. To find a renewed sense of this feeling.
"You are a handsome one. Dark hair falling to your smooth chin. So young. So fresh." Her fingers entwined in his hair, and then she lowered and placed her hand upon his chest. "So much pain though." As she spoke, her voice sympathetic, his heart melted and he felt strangely healed. "Your russet eyes have no need for sadness tonight." Her slight shoulders were revealed under her sleek black tank top, which was paired with jeans that hugged her legs and graced her hips. Even standing tall in her stance, she only reached his shoulders.
By then, Damian's eyes were drooping and the blood beneath his skin radiated heat, so warm that as her hands traced over his face, pulling back his hair, the iciness of her touch almost burned his skin; this sensation alone keeping him awake. Leaning forward in a kiss, she licked his neck from its base to his ear.
"Delicious. AB positive. Perfect. Damian my dear, you are going to make a most delightful meal." She breathed out as she opened her mouth, revealing two half-inch long fangs. As she pierced into his throat, his blood pooling into her mouth, his breath choked and gasped. His body slowly became limp as she held his withering shell in her arms. The spiced smell and the sweet taste of the smooth liquid sliding down her throat satisfied her so much, a shiver ran down her spine. The blood colored her cheeks as she drank it from the body of this handsome man, running it into her own veins. At the moment when Damian's life slipped through the wholes in his neck, the twisted cross fell off the mantle with and endless crash.
Standing up, she whipped the last drops from her lip, looking up to the sky she spoke with a content smirk "Finish him off." Pacing slowly, she then disappeared into the darkness, which enveloped her receding figure.
Within seconds a multitude of ravens and pitch black crows flew down and began pecking off his flesh in tiny pieces, poking at his dried eyes, eating his cold, lifeless corpse, and not one drop of blood splashed against the old, wooden floor. A shell of a man lie in the church, and if an onlooker witnessed the gruesome act, they would have found that there wasn't a single speck of blood left in that heartbroken corpse.
Damian found at least one thing before his end, his heart no longer felt the pain of his loss. Secretly, he had wanted something, anything to end it, and it just happened that what it took was for his heart to cease beating all together.
He walked through the rusted gates, swinging open with a sharply screaming screech. The walkway was hidden under chilling puddles, splashing under his black, clicking shoes. His eyes scanned around him and flashes of vividly colored memories sparked against his mind as if on an aged projection screen. A bird bath filled with clear water had invited him, as a child, to cup the cooling liquid in his smooth, innocent hands. Conversation had buzzed and flitted through the churchyard. He remembered his mother's laugh, so much like Rebecca's. Suddenly, his thoughts immediately switched over to images of her.
Oh, how her eyes gleamed when her face lit up as a chirping giggle sang out, pushed out from her beautiful breasts. She decorated her long chestnut locks with violet flowers; she always smelled of lavender and vanilla.
Lightning flashed, cracking through the sky, shocking Damian out of his fruitless dreams. The graveyard was no longer fluttered with blooming buds, but the yard was sunken with continuous rain, dark and foreboding. The forgotten headstones cracked as if in anger, born from all those vacant years in solitude.
How could such a joyful place grow into this melancholic church scene?
He could not imagine the ancient church had once held his loving parents' marriage. The crooked door creaked as he pushed through. Dust sputtered upon the air, chocking Damian, his coughs ricocheted of the heavily walls, the stones faded with time. Strangely enough he spied a candle lit in an empty corner, the light not spreading to the air, chocked by darkness too heavy for light to penetrate. Yet, the dim light provided enough clarity for Damian to observe a cross, swollen and twisted, deformed by each storm that had past resulting in the repetitive drops which fell from the caved in roof.
Not being able to tear his eyes from the gnarled cross, silence drained and pressed against his drumming ears. Time paused motionless and dead until wings fluttered between the rafters of the church. A wind whistled through the decaying walls, blowing out the burning candle. Heart pounding against his ribcage, he breathed heavily while spinning around, his soaked pea coat slapping his legs, and in the far corner near the entrance, he witnessed a flash of a figure skitting through the darkness.
"Hello? Anyone there?" his deep, rustic voice billowed in the empty church. Backing up, he placed his hand against one of the rotten pews. Leaning against it, a three inch long splinter stabbed into his palm. Screaming out in pain, Damian drew his hand to his face, attempting to see the damage. He could feel the warm blood oozing down his wrist in thick streams, and he could smell the sharp, metallic smell arising into the air from his wound.
Empty streets stretched between Damian and the large bell which rang, announcing midnight. Hearing this toll, he shook his head as if to dispel the eerie aura surrounding him. He had been hoping to rekindle, at least, some ounce of happiness or hope, but instead he only found the dead, rundown church of which he now stood inside, as if inside the stomach of a beast.
Finally, he breathed out in a gruff tone, "I need to get the hell out of here." Heading towards the door, a silky voice paused him in his step.
"I really would like to disagree." The soothed sound was a woman's voice. Turning around Damian saw that the candle was relit and standing in the light was a tall, thin woman with striking raven colored hair, cut short and tattered. Her dark hair complemented and brightened her clear, blue eyes. Her lips were naturally scarlet against her pale skin. He couldn't stop staring; she was stunningly more attractive than anyone he had ever come across before. His head became light as if it were floating above his shoulders, and his thoughts became jumbled
"Who are you?" he spat out in stutters and pauses.
"Who I am is of no importance Damian. The night has ended, and you haven't found what you destined out for." Her voice was melodic and poured into the air in a thick and sweet manner, reminding him of honey dripping through the space between them. As she spoke, her body strode towards him, her hips swaying side to side in a seductive manner. As she neared him, he could smell her intoxicating scent of sugar and sweat, and by the time she was close enough to see his own perspiring glands, he was drunk with her presence.
Immobile and entranced, he replied, "H…H…How do you, um, know, my…"
Placing her finger against his full lips, she whispered, "Shhhhh, quiet Damian. Relax. All will be well."
Her cold finger, once taken away, left his lips tingling, almost as if it was still there. He blinked and shook his head to attempt to clear his heavy mind, but each time she said his name, he seemed more in her control. As the seconds passed, he took in her delicate, angular face, and decided he'd let her do so. Perhaps she'd make him feel loved, even if temporarily, for tonight. That is what he truly desired. To find a renewed sense of this feeling.
"You are a handsome one. Dark hair falling to your smooth chin. So young. So fresh." Her fingers entwined in his hair, and then she lowered and placed her hand upon his chest. "So much pain though." As she spoke, her voice sympathetic, his heart melted and he felt strangely healed. "Your russet eyes have no need for sadness tonight." Her slight shoulders were revealed under her sleek black tank top, which was paired with jeans that hugged her legs and graced her hips. Even standing tall in her stance, she only reached his shoulders.
By then, Damian's eyes were drooping and the blood beneath his skin radiated heat, so warm that as her hands traced over his face, pulling back his hair, the iciness of her touch almost burned his skin; this sensation alone keeping him awake. Leaning forward in a kiss, she licked his neck from its base to his ear.
"Delicious. AB positive. Perfect. Damian my dear, you are going to make a most delightful meal." She breathed out as she opened her mouth, revealing two half-inch long fangs. As she pierced into his throat, his blood pooling into her mouth, his breath choked and gasped. His body slowly became limp as she held his withering shell in her arms. The spiced smell and the sweet taste of the smooth liquid sliding down her throat satisfied her so much, a shiver ran down her spine. The blood colored her cheeks as she drank it from the body of this handsome man, running it into her own veins. At the moment when Damian's life slipped through the wholes in his neck, the twisted cross fell off the mantle with and endless crash.
Standing up, she whipped the last drops from her lip, looking up to the sky she spoke with a content smirk "Finish him off." Pacing slowly, she then disappeared into the darkness, which enveloped her receding figure.
Within seconds a multitude of ravens and pitch black crows flew down and began pecking off his flesh in tiny pieces, poking at his dried eyes, eating his cold, lifeless corpse, and not one drop of blood splashed against the old, wooden floor. A shell of a man lie in the church, and if an onlooker witnessed the gruesome act, they would have found that there wasn't a single speck of blood left in that heartbroken corpse.
Damian found at least one thing before his end, his heart no longer felt the pain of his loss. Secretly, he had wanted something, anything to end it, and it just happened that what it took was for his heart to cease beating all together.
Confusion On a Spring Day
The winds are swirling
within my mind
thoughts are buzzing.
I can't find peace,
but the air is cool
and the sun is shining,
sending her rays to dance
Upon my skin, tingling.
but lust isn't the same as love
and i want lust for only
the one i love.
but not everything is perfect
and i must keep up
the strength i have acquired
to hold back the unwanted desires.
so wash me clean
pour cold water across my head
let me taste the fresh
crisp taste of this rain
that sparkles under the sky.
let my eyes feel new
as drops flow down my upturned head,
brushingclinging to my eyelashes.
my hair is dark,
hugging my shoulders
as the water runs
down my neck,
gracing down my back,
drenching me in forgiveness
covering me in simple bliss.
a slight smile,
my arms reaching for the sun,
I think of the one I truly love
and the breeze starts softly
gracing my skin
and drying the drops,
soaking them into each pore,
a part of me forever.
swirling,
the world spins
and all my thoughts
twist in the air around me,
my thoughts relax, and
as I tumble to the soft
loft of the rolling hills
and many shades of green,
I stare at the depth of blue,
whisper my truth,
and slip into the only place
I have ever really belonged.
within my mind
thoughts are buzzing.
I can't find peace,
but the air is cool
and the sun is shining,
sending her rays to dance
Upon my skin, tingling.
but lust isn't the same as love
and i want lust for only
the one i love.
but not everything is perfect
and i must keep up
the strength i have acquired
to hold back the unwanted desires.
so wash me clean
pour cold water across my head
let me taste the fresh
crisp taste of this rain
that sparkles under the sky.
let my eyes feel new
as drops flow down my upturned head,
brushingclinging to my eyelashes.
my hair is dark,
hugging my shoulders
as the water runs
down my neck,
gracing down my back,
drenching me in forgiveness
covering me in simple bliss.
a slight smile,
my arms reaching for the sun,
I think of the one I truly love
and the breeze starts softly
gracing my skin
and drying the drops,
soaking them into each pore,
a part of me forever.
swirling,
the world spins
and all my thoughts
twist in the air around me,
my thoughts relax, and
as I tumble to the soft
loft of the rolling hills
and many shades of green,
I stare at the depth of blue,
whisper my truth,
and slip into the only place
I have ever really belonged.
Torn Between Two
whispers burn into the folds
of the ears hidden
under the unkempt hair
decorated with gripping
fingers, as I attempt
to rip away the thoughts
pounding against my skull.
all is well
all is just
whispers and lies
whispers and lies.
my smiles once belonged to me
but now they are lost
somewhere between my confusion
and images of the past.
all is well
all is just
whispers and lies
whispers and lies
a feeling crept upon my chest
unwanted, I tried to fight it.
now I am split and have no choice.
I have one sword
and two of whom
I have no desireto fight.
Fear of loosing
fear of rejection.
My eyelids flickering
as my breath quickens.
I attempt to straighten,
quiet the battle inside my head.
One for him
The other
for the other.
Screaming, my hands
find the nesting home
within the strands of hair
that fall before my face.
Hiding my tears.
I've never been good at hiding.
He knew all along.
I did not ask to feel exactly as I do now.
But time is all that is left
To lead me where I should.
And when he turns around,I wonder even now,
Where precisely I'll be.
I never asked for this feeling,
not fair to him
as much as the other.
I'll wear a smile.
for him.
for him.
I'll wear a smile for me.
Things are beginning.
Not ending.
With leaves under my face,
fallen upon the ground,
I crawl one reach forward.
Things are beginning.
Crackling.
I might try to stand.
But not now.
The sun is still so light
and the time is just not right.
It's too early.
But things are beginning.
of the ears hidden
under the unkempt hair
decorated with gripping
fingers, as I attempt
to rip away the thoughts
pounding against my skull.
all is well
all is just
whispers and lies
whispers and lies.
my smiles once belonged to me
but now they are lost
somewhere between my confusion
and images of the past.
all is well
all is just
whispers and lies
whispers and lies
a feeling crept upon my chest
unwanted, I tried to fight it.
now I am split and have no choice.
I have one sword
and two of whom
I have no desireto fight.
Fear of loosing
fear of rejection.
My eyelids flickering
as my breath quickens.
I attempt to straighten,
quiet the battle inside my head.
One for him
The other
for the other.
Screaming, my hands
find the nesting home
within the strands of hair
that fall before my face.
Hiding my tears.
I've never been good at hiding.
He knew all along.
I did not ask to feel exactly as I do now.
But time is all that is left
To lead me where I should.
And when he turns around,I wonder even now,
Where precisely I'll be.
I never asked for this feeling,
not fair to him
as much as the other.
I'll wear a smile.
for him.
for him.
I'll wear a smile for me.
Things are beginning.
Not ending.
With leaves under my face,
fallen upon the ground,
I crawl one reach forward.
Things are beginning.
Crackling.
I might try to stand.
But not now.
The sun is still so light
and the time is just not right.
It's too early.
But things are beginning.
Moonlight Sonata
Star Bright, Moon Light
it is the moon that intrigues me.
the soft silvery light
that sings lullabies into the night.
the moon is more forgiving
than any sunlight I've seen,
though profoundly beautiful,
and warming with it's golden colors.
I prefer the moon.
After seeing the light,
and knowing the dark
I prefer the moon.
The night is my cover.
The peace as the world falls asleep,
and leaves the world to me.
The night is my freedom.
The world is my playground,
once the sun says goodbye
until morning.
The moon with his pale light, gentle
but with powerful ways of moving the tides.
Seductive and caring.
The moon with his secrets,
I want to understand him more.
I have been the moon's lover.
Listen to me sing
as the moon fills.
Listen to my song,
much louder than the crickets.
I have touched the moon,
and forever am changed
by the impression left upon me.
it is the moon that intrigues me.
the soft silvery light
that sings lullabies into the night.
the moon is more forgiving
than any sunlight I've seen,
though profoundly beautiful,
and warming with it's golden colors.
I prefer the moon.
After seeing the light,
and knowing the dark
I prefer the moon.
The night is my cover.
The peace as the world falls asleep,
and leaves the world to me.
The night is my freedom.
The world is my playground,
once the sun says goodbye
until morning.
The moon with his pale light, gentle
but with powerful ways of moving the tides.
Seductive and caring.
The moon with his secrets,
I want to understand him more.
I have been the moon's lover.
Listen to me sing
as the moon fills.
Listen to my song,
much louder than the crickets.
I have touched the moon,
and forever am changed
by the impression left upon me.
Arachnophobia At It's Best
Monsters, You Stay Away! I Can Smell Your Decay!
Blackness devours my eyes; my hand is a stranger in front of my own face. A sour, putrid smell forces its way into my nose, causing my wide, searching eyes to itch and water. I cough in attempt to rid the decaying smell from my system, trying to clear from my thoughts the scent that lingers in some forgotten corner of this room . My arm reaches out into the abyss, and I can almost feel the darkness eat at my skin. I take several steps forward, searching for a switch that will reveal this mysterious room, my feet scuffling along the rough pavement below. The staleness of the air informs me there are no windows or apertures present inside this prison like area.
Finally, the cold concrete wall finds my reaching fingertips. Sliding my hand along the rough surface, I find the switch. A chill runs along my arm, as if I had just been shocked from the electricity that buzzes behind these thick walls. Suddenly, a feeling of something scurrying up my arm tingles along my skin. I flick on the switch, and observe a large arachnid crouched on my forearm. About the size of a softball, its long, sharp, black fangs drip with a tawny liquid. Its blank eyes, numbered about fifty, stare directly into my own two, frightened eyes. The hair prickling out of the leather-like skin raises and pokes into my arm, leaving hundreds of small red spots.
The hot blood bubbling from the wounds wake me up from my panic. A quick rustling flips inside my abdomen, rising like lightning up past my chest, lodging itself in my throat. Finally, my scream erupts into the dead silence like a firecracker in the night. Rapidly, the spider switched positions and sank its needle like fangs into me. Numbness shocked through my arm, and a gangrene color spider-webbed along my skin, racing away from the puncture wound, like rapidly growing green vines. Vomit choked my scream. Turning around, it placed it's backside inside one of the holes created from the bite and released tiny white spheres, which were lurid in sight.
Shortly after, the spider sprung from my arm and attached to the wall. Looking back down at my arm, I saw the wound begin to swell like a growing volcano, and soon my skin, pink and swollen, erupted as tiny spiders scampered and crawled up my arm. I gazed around me in a daze, and I noticed for the first time the multitude of rotting human carcasses that were strewn around me; their mouths opened in a continuous, silent scream, and the eye sockets carved empty and dark. Hundreds of giant spiders weaved themselves through the rib cages of the bodies, now turned into habitats for these monsters. Gray skin hung from the yellowed bones.
The sudden feeling of an extreme itch pulls my terrified eyes back towards my arms. Half of my skin had already been devoured by these tiny fiends. My head began to spin. My eyesight clouded by fear as well as the poison as I realized my end.
Blackness devours my eyes; my hand is a stranger in front of my own face. A sour, putrid smell forces its way into my nose, causing my wide, searching eyes to itch and water. I cough in attempt to rid the decaying smell from my system, trying to clear from my thoughts the scent that lingers in some forgotten corner of this room . My arm reaches out into the abyss, and I can almost feel the darkness eat at my skin. I take several steps forward, searching for a switch that will reveal this mysterious room, my feet scuffling along the rough pavement below. The staleness of the air informs me there are no windows or apertures present inside this prison like area.
Finally, the cold concrete wall finds my reaching fingertips. Sliding my hand along the rough surface, I find the switch. A chill runs along my arm, as if I had just been shocked from the electricity that buzzes behind these thick walls. Suddenly, a feeling of something scurrying up my arm tingles along my skin. I flick on the switch, and observe a large arachnid crouched on my forearm. About the size of a softball, its long, sharp, black fangs drip with a tawny liquid. Its blank eyes, numbered about fifty, stare directly into my own two, frightened eyes. The hair prickling out of the leather-like skin raises and pokes into my arm, leaving hundreds of small red spots.
The hot blood bubbling from the wounds wake me up from my panic. A quick rustling flips inside my abdomen, rising like lightning up past my chest, lodging itself in my throat. Finally, my scream erupts into the dead silence like a firecracker in the night. Rapidly, the spider switched positions and sank its needle like fangs into me. Numbness shocked through my arm, and a gangrene color spider-webbed along my skin, racing away from the puncture wound, like rapidly growing green vines. Vomit choked my scream. Turning around, it placed it's backside inside one of the holes created from the bite and released tiny white spheres, which were lurid in sight.
Shortly after, the spider sprung from my arm and attached to the wall. Looking back down at my arm, I saw the wound begin to swell like a growing volcano, and soon my skin, pink and swollen, erupted as tiny spiders scampered and crawled up my arm. I gazed around me in a daze, and I noticed for the first time the multitude of rotting human carcasses that were strewn around me; their mouths opened in a continuous, silent scream, and the eye sockets carved empty and dark. Hundreds of giant spiders weaved themselves through the rib cages of the bodies, now turned into habitats for these monsters. Gray skin hung from the yellowed bones.
The sudden feeling of an extreme itch pulls my terrified eyes back towards my arms. Half of my skin had already been devoured by these tiny fiends. My head began to spin. My eyesight clouded by fear as well as the poison as I realized my end.
Calling the Magic of Holy Water
Don’t enter my thoughts, you’ll only leave burdened...
It feels every sin is upon them.
I rinse my hands in holy water,
And the people stare in horror.
They dip their little fingers
Dappling them in the water.
But, I am far more dirty than they.
I rush out to escape the silent disdain.
I just wanted to be clean.
These fingers I bring to my face
To catch the tears that run
Because of the mistakes I've made
Tremble with fear of an uncertain tomorrow.
Sometimes it seems that the only future I can control
Involves me ending it all together.
In the finale, at least I had control, right?
Wrong.
Because in a few months time,
Everyone would have forgot me.
In my attempt to earn control,
I would let my greatest fear arise.
I would loose everything dear to me.
And everyone I am dear to,
Which is very few,
Would have to deal with the loss
And they would experience
The very feeling I fled from.
I would have nothing left
But the darkness,
And the voices of the earth
Telling me of my wrongs.
Not much different than being here
In the light that is much less forgiving.
Bring me to the moon.
Higher than any bug will fly.
Higher than my minute worries.
High enough to balance out my low veneer.
High enough to erase my low condition,
Just for a moment in time.
But silly me, I forget in my troubles,
That without even lifting a finger,
You have me thinking of you,
No matter how high I get.
No mater how pathetic I've become.
It feels every sin is upon them.
I rinse my hands in holy water,
And the people stare in horror.
They dip their little fingers
Dappling them in the water.
But, I am far more dirty than they.
I rush out to escape the silent disdain.
I just wanted to be clean.
These fingers I bring to my face
To catch the tears that run
Because of the mistakes I've made
Tremble with fear of an uncertain tomorrow.
Sometimes it seems that the only future I can control
Involves me ending it all together.
In the finale, at least I had control, right?
Wrong.
Because in a few months time,
Everyone would have forgot me.
In my attempt to earn control,
I would let my greatest fear arise.
I would loose everything dear to me.
And everyone I am dear to,
Which is very few,
Would have to deal with the loss
And they would experience
The very feeling I fled from.
I would have nothing left
But the darkness,
And the voices of the earth
Telling me of my wrongs.
Not much different than being here
In the light that is much less forgiving.
Bring me to the moon.
Higher than any bug will fly.
Higher than my minute worries.
High enough to balance out my low veneer.
High enough to erase my low condition,
Just for a moment in time.
But silly me, I forget in my troubles,
That without even lifting a finger,
You have me thinking of you,
No matter how high I get.
No mater how pathetic I've become.
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