You and Your Anchor Tattoo

If you really believe the stories, then it is all divine intuition marred and harrowed down by concrete science. I stared at the moon, fat full with light and magic, as if she would produce an answer. She remained silent in her passage across the sky, as I sat against the frost bitten pane.

The world pooled serenely outside the translucent barrier. I felt the night coalescing much like a flower symbolic from some outcast mythology. The energy from bud to bloom set to humming deep within, like a symphony being steadily turned up until the volume is so loud your bones vibrate into dust.

Standing, I stretched upward into the heavens as hard and far as my body was willing to reach. I looked around the room, bathed in what little glow poured in from the window. Stripping in the soft luminescence proffered from the unsheltered portal, I was bemused as the glow from the moon mirrored itself upon my pale flesh, and smiled.

I could feel the night slipping from me, moving too fast so I quickened my pace to match. Showered and freshly dressed, I moved hastily through the preparations to leave. Locking the door, I slipped out into the night. The night was calm and rich, softly whispering her secrets to all the denizens nocturnal. The grounds and walks were wet still from earlier rains.

Moving to the parking lot I came upon my vehicle, glimmering under the moonlight like a bloodstain poured into cast, creating shape and sustenance. The strain of the urge relaxed once the engine ignited.

The drive was over in an instant of moonlight and swift passing shadows. Pulling in to an empty parking lot, I sat over looking the beach and the fierce flowing ocean. Exiting the vehicle I stood, tasted the air fresh from the ocean that created it. Removing the light jacket and my shoes I placed them on the seat and floorboard and closed the door.

Making my way through the parking lot, past the hotels and life guard stations I sat on the hard packed sand a scant distance from the sea lapping at the terrain that had struggled up and out of its salty demanding grasps. I stared at the pool of deep sapphire, amethyst and jade glittering beneath the stark white rabbit. Inhaling deeply I knew the decision had been made and I stood.

If answers were to be had, the time had come…

I Wonder

I wonder
How it's going to be, when you don't know me
How's it going to be, when you're sure I'm not there?
How's it going to be, when there is no one there to talk to
Between you and me?
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be?

I wonder
How's it going to be, when it goes down?
How's it going to be, when you're not around?
How's it going to be, when you find out there was nothing
Between you and me?
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be



I am finding that who I am now, who I am capable of being at any given moment is a vastly capricious thing.
I feel left out or unjustified in these changes. There is a great sense of unrest. And also one of insecurity. And a sense of resentment that lingers in the air for far too long. I want to take you with me, but I realize that maybe if I do love you now is the time to let you go.
I am categorizing myself, and as awful as that sounds it really isn’t. It’s merely a way of breaking myself down so that I may fully understand and come to grasp all the fundamentals, variations and analogous parts that make the cognitive whole. As much as I desire to take all of you with me I understand, somewhat regretfully, that that is simply not an option. So I am doing the only thing I know in this situation.

I’m letting you go.

----------------------------------------------------

Blessed are they with a cherry smile
Who stopped by to chat a while…
Blessed are they that make it known
That I am loved and not alone
- Grace McDonald

Cordially Dismissed

We’ll meet the way old friends do
Silent and pleasant
Ever the same
Strangely new
You’ll remember me classically
Preconceived notions
Expected actions, patterns
I’ll receive you as I am
And you as I’ve never imagined
Unexpected present and accounted for
I’ll smile serene
Intelligent on your design
Artifices
Remembering the you I thought you were
Wanted you to be
Everything
Nothing
Each wish and dream and hope
Destroyed and desiccated
Ashes upon the winds
All of it gone
Perished
Except for this hope
This wish
That fate may be kind enough
That I might know your face
In this new everafter
No more the admirer of your beauty
No more the singer of a song
No more the dancer of the blood rush
No more the slave to your master
No more the junkie to your fix
Tomorrow I am giving all of you away

Velvet Lined

Velvet lined my mouth
Soft and crushing
Enfolding
All the secrets I’ve yet to spill
I scrambled to catch
And eagerly consume
All the embers
Glittering like rubies in the light
With great haste I
Filled my mouth to bursting
Inhale
Conflagration
Overwhelming this
Hell
Heaven
Sweet sensation cascading
Down and out
Fierce heat so long only
Soul strong
Erupting and devouring every
Inch of flesh
The way I sit and patiently wait
For your mouth
To fulfill

Curl Around

And you’ll curl around like you always do
Cardboard box
Escorting a velvet shrew
The eyes that slither
They slide
And I’m giving out pieces
Of my soul
Just like I always do
And I know for whom the bell tolls
And I know why the caged bird sings
And Edgar’s in the alley
Sucking the souls from the clouds
In his coffee
I saw your soul today

The Lies You Uttered Still Whisper In The Trees

And the melodies spilling through my veins, myriads of symphonies time had yet to tell. Shining silver etchings, iridescent upon the milk pale surface. Myths and legends, warnings and prostrations of tales no poet had heart enough to breathe into words. Such sorrow, such agony; sweeter due the bitter. Vibrant and rich.

The lies you uttered still whisper in the trees, haunting me with all the blessings life has stolen. Everywhere and in everything they speak of a youth filled with love. Here am I, jaded in silk shadows. Grey blue, with tumultuous oceans for sight. Pallid and glowing amidst the shade, flowing darkness sparked to background sound; rumors you can’t quite catch but yearn so desperately to gorge upon.

Slip in. Slip out. Slide silent along the worn path, narrow and jagged, flitting just along the perimeter. A flash of pooled moonlight, anthropomorphic; breathtaking. Beauty a poor man’s lure, the mystery here is deeper. Torrid. Some Sidhe slithering, beguiling your indulgences. And if you have the courage, if you have the strength; the rewards ever outweigh the risk.

Violent and cruel, exactly what you’ve been warned away from. Yet the chance is thrilling, trilling the soul swimming along your highways; seeping into the furthest mundane edges of suburbia exposed. Nursed inward to your most audaciously brazen self and murmuring ever gently, things you never thought you would hear. Things you cannot quite comprehend. Things you cannot live without. Things you need. And all it takes is that one chance. But it’s all or nothing. The creation. The destruction. In the end the question is simple. Searing. Revolutionary.

How much of your soul are you willing to lose?

Because It's Everything

And I might be beautiful if it weren’t for all these scars. This rot ridden soul. Putrid and hateful.
No matter how deep the razor goes it just can’t reach what’s wrong. Because it’s everything. Every breath, beat, lash, cell. Every day, hour, moment. Curling out, up, in.

The only way to get out is to break out for good. Break down. Decay. Big bright red Cheshire grin. Sloppy jagged hunks of flesh sickeningly remindful of teeth gushing crimson vomit. And it’s all tumbling out now.
Worthless
Wasteful
Wicked
Wrong
Wrong
Wrong
And if you ever did anything right they might love you.
If you cease. Cease to be. Think.

And if you could, please, just be a little less you. However, it really doesn’t seem to be worth my time, so why don’t you just continue on.

While you’re busy championing Jonathan Harker, I’m mourning Dracula.
And who is there to hold me while I lose control?
Who is there to ease the pain of loss?
Who is there to ease the heartache?
Who is there to tell me the sun will set and night will return once more?


Maybe they would be,
If you weren’t a Monster.

But then who would you be?

Night

The hard packed sand gave way beneath her, cushioning her bare feet on this cool damp night. Sweet release from the tepid heat of the day, sweltering and dehydrating even as the humidity clung so voraciously. The soft blonde crystals clung greedily to her toes and arches; and the back of her ankles where the cadence of her walk flicked it. Even then, lost within herself, overwhelmed by the thousands of thoughts all cluttering to the fore and chattering for attention; she walked like a predator. Alone in the darkness where females were particularly cautioned against such wayward acts. Still she meandered. Solitary.

Yet this was no act of defiance. At least not conscionable. It was merely an escape. An interlude from all the burdens cloying her attention. The night was always sweeter. The sounds richer, the colors more vibrant in their subdued shades. She concentrated on the stretching and tension in the muscles. The flex of her toes to maintain balance, the subtle tremors in her abdomen and spine in response to her gait. The soft crushing sounds the earthen road made beneath her, the chittering insects and calling night birds. Drinking in the world the way she did her vodka. Deeply, as if reading the memories of each note.

Some Summer Winds

Some summer winds
Have whispered saccharine promises
Sweetly ladened with their buried treasures
Alone the loon echoes weeping willows
Beneath strained sunsets
The sky stretched onward
Surging to envelop
The tender loves it cherished
Glittering brightly
In that fluid intensity
How they quiver
Graciously overwhelmed
By this display of intent

Bitter Hibernation

Twilight was silent. Seeming fit to burst with some token, some mote of wisdom to provide what little comfort was available. It, however, was crushed beneath the cacophonous silence.

Wearily she lay, staring through the verdant forest. The ferns, trees, the soil, the marching insects. The mind is alive with a thousand thoughts - but not now. Not this time. There is only the nothingness. The hollow ache. As if the body was a vein stripped of all it's glittering pieces. There was the endless expanse of time stretched out before her. How long had she been here. How long had twilight been hovering. Were there others? The hard packed earth was rich and soft beneath her, long since ingraining itself into her hair, bits of it clung furtively. Dust to dust, and it was intent upon pulling her back in. Her muscles had long since given up the fight to pull her out of the huddled mass she lay in. Had the fingers against her lips or the ones crushed beneath her belly gone numb first?

Piercing her to the forest floor, the agonizing lance burned its way into her spine. She was sure the scream ricocheting through her cranium had been physically uttered, yet the forest wielded no echo. The blinding white light split her skull apart, subsiding to the muscles being rent apart in her calf.

And suddenly the pain was pinging from one cell to the next. It was then the acid carved it's way down her face. Of it's own free will, she stared from her back into the canopy. Shuddering from the effort and wracking sobs. It was the rain, violently cold and furiously falling. Heaven crying to pushstart the body without the will to do so.

Every muscle was alive and hungry now. Awakened from it's bitter hibernation most hastily. Clutching and clinging to itself it cried. And in her mind there was only the acrid wasteland. Only wind and cracked, dead land for miles. Yet she wasn't alone. There was that one. Hovering over her. Unrelenting, however, undemanding. Seeming content to just be there. Voicing no queries, no motive, no comfort. Nothing.

The forest moved. And suddenly she was staring out again. It was then she noticed the curled claw of a hand clutching the wet earth. Sliding over it as the legs behind her pushed. Content to watch the dragging, she huddled into herself observing until she was lost to unconsciousness.