You have exhausted my waters
Your thirst for me
left me dry. You
took away every last drop
and now I cannot help myself.
Little love. You gave me great.
20110916
20110915
20110626
Part 3
All of a sudden, lucid and bright, burned retinas and soul engulfed by plight.
A scream she did make agonised and loud, and he had regarded but made not a sound.
It was she who had swallowed the blood-tasting pill but he did not know what it was like to kill.
She begged him to help her and curled into a ball but he had not seen the foetus and all.
“Make it stop oh won’t you please OH god no” And so it continued the cruel agony below.
In the mess and the storm, blood filled lakes flowed warm, but blood was not in her veins for reform.
The distances walked and the shoes broken in, heavy splintered womb now echoed the din.
Swollen balloon and fragile like too, language of matter precarious and blue.
The choice had been made earlier that week, and now in full swing, the process it leaked.
A calm moment approaching, both shuddered and rested; if only to ignore the constitution infested.
White hardened ball and horror existing - no longer a heartbeat of pain inflicting.
Sickeningly open and spewing and heaving, nauseating volumes of repugnant bleeding.
Worthy of noting is the sadness of exile; girl of emptiness is exacting and hostile.
How now to denounce the departed of yester, when sitting between soft is still there to fester?
In any offer the passing makes well, as they will find time does tell.
Ultimate loss but inclination conflicting, all longings left in those moments afflicting.
World still turning and breaks do not halt so in earnest they return to their life before fault.
A scream she did make agonised and loud, and he had regarded but made not a sound.
It was she who had swallowed the blood-tasting pill but he did not know what it was like to kill.
She begged him to help her and curled into a ball but he had not seen the foetus and all.
“Make it stop oh won’t you please OH god no” And so it continued the cruel agony below.
In the mess and the storm, blood filled lakes flowed warm, but blood was not in her veins for reform.
The distances walked and the shoes broken in, heavy splintered womb now echoed the din.
Swollen balloon and fragile like too, language of matter precarious and blue.
The choice had been made earlier that week, and now in full swing, the process it leaked.
A calm moment approaching, both shuddered and rested; if only to ignore the constitution infested.
White hardened ball and horror existing - no longer a heartbeat of pain inflicting.
Sickeningly open and spewing and heaving, nauseating volumes of repugnant bleeding.
Worthy of noting is the sadness of exile; girl of emptiness is exacting and hostile.
How now to denounce the departed of yester, when sitting between soft is still there to fester?
In any offer the passing makes well, as they will find time does tell.
Ultimate loss but inclination conflicting, all longings left in those moments afflicting.
World still turning and breaks do not halt so in earnest they return to their life before fault.
20110602
A short developing story:
Part 1: The Event
Swallowed love is as ripe as peach nectar; animal skin smooth and kind. A million young suns at the end of nerves rush to breathe in oxygen at the surface. Tingling. Blood warm throughout. Vectorous affectations, side by side, movements controlled by poetry.
Part 1a: AMOR FATI; The realisation
How unbearable to be so loved and to love as I have never before. How cruelly this love sits in my stomach, unprecedented in its resolve.
Part 2; The Eternal Recurrence.
Legless and senseless but loved. Pulsing beats and embryo rifts permeate from below. Sharp implanting in my spine, a melody resuscitating a tired soul from sleep. Cultivated but neglected in real meaning; an integral part of myself will be taken away.
Part 3; The end has light and darkness, fury and delirium.
Part 1: The Event
Swallowed love is as ripe as peach nectar; animal skin smooth and kind. A million young suns at the end of nerves rush to breathe in oxygen at the surface. Tingling. Blood warm throughout. Vectorous affectations, side by side, movements controlled by poetry.
Part 1a: AMOR FATI; The realisation
How unbearable to be so loved and to love as I have never before. How cruelly this love sits in my stomach, unprecedented in its resolve.
Part 2; The Eternal Recurrence.
Legless and senseless but loved. Pulsing beats and embryo rifts permeate from below. Sharp implanting in my spine, a melody resuscitating a tired soul from sleep. Cultivated but neglected in real meaning; an integral part of myself will be taken away.
Part 3; The end has light and darkness, fury and delirium.
20110116
Comfort. It's a comfortable word. Not onomatopoeic but still warming and kind. We take for granted our comfort in the new lights of morning windows but are jolted when sudden light breaks through a gap in the door. We are comfortable with our barriers, with our horizons that are still tangible. But barriers are for breaking, not just by us, but by our closest and nearest; our comforters
20100924
20100827
When the trees are still and the forest is silent, the green turning to brown and the leaves curling, be more vigilant, for quiet is not always the peaceful awakening you crave. Here it is sinister and echoes the explorable torment of your hollow mind. Do not stay between these looming trunks for they are sucking your soul through their hidden roots. Run freely to the flowing river and allow the trickle of crisp crystal waters effervesce through your blood, reawakening the clarity of your heart.
20100813
We built our foundations on quicksand; slowly we sank, but with determination to hold onto any solid form around us.
We attempted the ascent out of the weighted deluge that had fallen onto our heads and shattered our protecting beliefs. I loved you fully, a pedibus usque ad caput, a capite ad calcem. That love was a brittle creation that we'd nourished with fervour but I polished and tried to restore with manic enthusiasm and this only made those fractures more delicate and fragile.
I cemented our feet in blocks side by side but now we know that cement is no match for a disturbance deep inside. You held onto great rage and my pleas were but muffled cries in cement torn apart by tears and regret.
We attempted the ascent out of the weighted deluge that had fallen onto our heads and shattered our protecting beliefs. I loved you fully, a pedibus usque ad caput, a capite ad calcem. That love was a brittle creation that we'd nourished with fervour but I polished and tried to restore with manic enthusiasm and this only made those fractures more delicate and fragile.
I cemented our feet in blocks side by side but now we know that cement is no match for a disturbance deep inside. You held onto great rage and my pleas were but muffled cries in cement torn apart by tears and regret.
20100806
Search for an academy where flesh can lay with the rest of flesh; let the community of fat and skin linger on bones, one as other.
There in the mound of banality will all human poison seep from our pores. My blood is your blood; my eyes see the same tangible fleece and the rest of proprieters of eyes sewn with poisoned needles.
We are trained to deceive.
Your nose, though larger than mine, still smells the same excruciating sulphur of normalness. It is only our souls and significant sensibilities that differ. Matter does not matter; we are one and the same in almost every way. But the way you think is entirely offensive to the chemical connections of my logic.
My conditionalities and comprehensions do not sleep sound at night. No. They fiercely crawl around my body as wolves to meat soon to be demolished by salts of saliva.
My conflicts are creeping spiders in the vaults of my cranium. I trap myself in a web with fragments of your glacier smile bouncing particles of piercing light on vulnerable threads.
You laugh with simple pleasures. I grimace with hardened concern. There is no rapture behind your eyes. No apology in your routine.
In essence we have no fractures to mend between us; the fault lines are weathered cracks in the sands of our time together. We need only to accept we are both the same sworn men of earth as well as opposing elements of reaction. My ache will not break you. My acidity may numb your sweetness but your flowing syrup will always remain strong in your blood. I will endeavor to compromise with savoury methodology; the kind that can only bubble to the surface thanks to your timely patience for my pedantic disillusions.
Perfumed by your opulent roses, my thorned garden will no longer show neglect. It will be coloured with new blood; the same blue blood that is both yours and mine, flowing with reckless abandon to oxygenate in clean air and once again remind me that we are as one.
There in the mound of banality will all human poison seep from our pores. My blood is your blood; my eyes see the same tangible fleece and the rest of proprieters of eyes sewn with poisoned needles.
We are trained to deceive.
Your nose, though larger than mine, still smells the same excruciating sulphur of normalness. It is only our souls and significant sensibilities that differ. Matter does not matter; we are one and the same in almost every way. But the way you think is entirely offensive to the chemical connections of my logic.
My conditionalities and comprehensions do not sleep sound at night. No. They fiercely crawl around my body as wolves to meat soon to be demolished by salts of saliva.
My conflicts are creeping spiders in the vaults of my cranium. I trap myself in a web with fragments of your glacier smile bouncing particles of piercing light on vulnerable threads.
You laugh with simple pleasures. I grimace with hardened concern. There is no rapture behind your eyes. No apology in your routine.
In essence we have no fractures to mend between us; the fault lines are weathered cracks in the sands of our time together. We need only to accept we are both the same sworn men of earth as well as opposing elements of reaction. My ache will not break you. My acidity may numb your sweetness but your flowing syrup will always remain strong in your blood. I will endeavor to compromise with savoury methodology; the kind that can only bubble to the surface thanks to your timely patience for my pedantic disillusions.
Perfumed by your opulent roses, my thorned garden will no longer show neglect. It will be coloured with new blood; the same blue blood that is both yours and mine, flowing with reckless abandon to oxygenate in clean air and once again remind me that we are as one.
20100704
My darling.
I waited for you. You did not come. I realised at that moment that all was lost. I had nothing to occupy my time apart from the functional misery of waiting for you. The hours come and go, as do you each day. I needed you most then, I could feel the falling. I knew the inevitable event would happen on that night and it frightened me. I tried to stop myself from wailing, shaking and taking. My love, I tried to find my exit in the same way I had before and was disappointed in myself, but desperate to continue the act. I needed you to help my profound loneliness come to the surface. I needed you to indulge my neurosis and help me overcome the stabbing pain in my chest. But you did not come. And I could not wait.
When the begging had been exhausted, and I too had lost all energy to scream, the clouds lifted but hovered over my swollen face. I was calm after breaking down to you. The clouds, they were not heavy with thick rain any more. But they were black as the night and ominous like my being. Would the third time be the success?
I waited for you to accompany me on my journey to the poisons unit. I saw the anger and lack of understanding in your eyes. I knew that this was a mistake. I knew that despite waiting for you, you could not wait for me to become better. You left me there. Your night had been ruined. I could not come back with you.
My love, that night has not ruined us. It has shown to you that what I have been telling you all along is true. I may well have scared you away. You may be polite and stay here for a while and make me feel safe, then you will leave and I shall run after you. I cannot apologise for those clouds that follow me. The sun does not break through for me like it does you.
Love always,
Menina.
I waited for you. You did not come. I realised at that moment that all was lost. I had nothing to occupy my time apart from the functional misery of waiting for you. The hours come and go, as do you each day. I needed you most then, I could feel the falling. I knew the inevitable event would happen on that night and it frightened me. I tried to stop myself from wailing, shaking and taking. My love, I tried to find my exit in the same way I had before and was disappointed in myself, but desperate to continue the act. I needed you to help my profound loneliness come to the surface. I needed you to indulge my neurosis and help me overcome the stabbing pain in my chest. But you did not come. And I could not wait.
When the begging had been exhausted, and I too had lost all energy to scream, the clouds lifted but hovered over my swollen face. I was calm after breaking down to you. The clouds, they were not heavy with thick rain any more. But they were black as the night and ominous like my being. Would the third time be the success?
I waited for you to accompany me on my journey to the poisons unit. I saw the anger and lack of understanding in your eyes. I knew that this was a mistake. I knew that despite waiting for you, you could not wait for me to become better. You left me there. Your night had been ruined. I could not come back with you.
My love, that night has not ruined us. It has shown to you that what I have been telling you all along is true. I may well have scared you away. You may be polite and stay here for a while and make me feel safe, then you will leave and I shall run after you. I cannot apologise for those clouds that follow me. The sun does not break through for me like it does you.
Love always,
Menina.
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