October 2011
18 posts
3 tags
It’s interesting, this feeling. Lying here quietly, waiting. Breathing when I can, listening to my heart slow in my ears. Should it be this loud? It is slowing. Should it hurt? Is it going too? No, no. Well, I do know this position I am in is uncomfortable…. Who stabs a man from behind? I mean really, so cowardly, so cruel, so
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Watching him on stage, from my spot in the sweaty and gyrating crowd, I was mesmerized. As he wailed into the microphone, he jumped and rocked, shook his dyed and feathered hair, raised his middle finger to his fans and grinned. Even as he lowered the mic and took a long drag from the cigarette he held, he was beautiful.
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All your breath is in his eyes. They’re blazing with life and energy and love, too much for one person; all kinds of blue and green that you’ve never seen. You want to bottle it, paint with it. Usually hidden, a sublime vision preceding humanity, it feels such a privilege.
Even behind glass walls, part of it might still dwell within you.
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The Sailor Jerry’s Rum sitting bleakly in the bottom of my polystyrene cup, diluted only by a dashing of ginger ale and the backbite of tonight’s antics.
Meanwhile, a mediocre jazz band played to those who listened, and again, to those who didn’t.
A festival’s answer to a question that nobody asked.
‘Kendal Calling’, a festival with so much to answer for.
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“Dude, stop talking about her while we’re walking right behind her. She could be American.
“Relax, that chick’s definitely French. She’s not wearing makeup, and look at that little long, flowery dress. Parisiens are all style, no sex appeal”.
The girl unconsciously stuffed the map of Paris further into her purse, stifling a sigh. “Well, at least I’m fitting in,” she thought.
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Before hands had met, eyes had danced a thousand times. Words filled the air between with liquid lust as they dove with grace from lips. Hands quivered in the Waltz, legs locked in the Foxtrot, skin ablaze in the Rhumba. With each beat, hearts came closer, neither pulse remained unique. I knew then we’d dance again the day our lives would blend.
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In an alternative universe I would hate you, loathe you. You say I couldn’t be sure that would happen; no one knows what might’ve been, or what could be. I say if it happens, I would make sure, even teach myself if I have to. But we are living in this reality where I love you more than anything, it scares me.
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She was the most beautiful girl the boy had ever laid eyes on. When Leonardo finished the Mona Lisa he thought her heavenliness had been captured. This girl, however, was so utterly ravishing that her beauty could never be re-imagined. He mustered up the courage to say hello but the whisper of his voice made her shatter into a million little pieces.
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There I was. Sitting in a prison cell for a crime I couldn’t remember. The night had been one crazy blur. I was so scared, all the books and movies and plays had told me that I should be scared. There were other people with me. Together, we were united by our fear. This fear led to empathy, the empathy to kindness.
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We should have known better, the least thing that you should expect from others is to understand the grievances and pains that are mounting inside you. Because for having a person to fully grasp the meaning is to actually going through it. Do you want to go through the sufferings? Nobody in a right mind would want that. Life is hard enough.
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I make excuses for you and me, reasons why I need you, like children need Santa Claus. When I was little, my parents tried to tell me the truth and I insisted no, Santa Claus did indeed fit himself down our chimney. While you do not attempt to slide down the chimney, your warmth slides down my body and into my heart.
4 tags
The woman with one gloved hand walks off the train before the doors ding closed. Stairwell jammed, she keeps her tote level; holding straps securely, with one gloved hand. Her stride, the pride of finishing school; bumped from the side, she holds on. Top of the stairs, she exits with conviction, walks down Vandam; the package, held tight with one gloved hand.
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The night was warm so we left our clothes in the sand and headed for the waves. The ocean was rough and cold against our naked bodies. A wave knocked me against him and I was caught in his arms. And all of the sudden I tasted bubble gum, felt his hand on my back and the other tangled in my hair.
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“You need to eat,” I said.
She came into the living room with a distraught look on her face. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her. He had been cheating and, of course, she didn’t want to admit it, though the whole world knew it. She slumped down on to the couch.
“I’ll live,” she replied simply.
I wasn’t so sure.
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In nothing but a towel, she stares at the girl in the mirror. She loathes its reflection, sickened by its appearance. A black bag emerges. The tools for beauty. She begins to work. Her labour complete, she is changed. Unrecognizable. She sighs, knowing God didn’t create her this way. To the world, she is beautiful, but she has never felt so ugly.
5 tags
If they say a picture is worth a thousand words, then I have reread your short story more times than I can remember. I find the consonants of your perfect lips as beautiful as the vowels of your crystal blue eyes. The background reminds me of when the word “us” was still nonfiction. Yes, I know these thousand words all too well.
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There’s nothing between us. Nothing except distance. You’re oceans, seas, and mountains away from me. Time is the bittersweet torment. But it’s okay. You think about my perfume smell, and I – the light cigarette smell printed on you. I count down the days we meet and you predict our future nights. I’m an addict in your withdrawal, impatiently waiting for your presence.
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Silence. It was the hardest part to take in. In the distance, they appeared as children’s drawings, giant V’s or M’s in the air. Up close they were feathered, fast – dropping from above the clouds to pluck people from suburban gardens and restaurant patios, topless cars and zig-zag sunbathing chairs. Happening so fast that all that was left were open mouths. Silent.
September 2011
30 posts
2 tags
She watched and waited for something to happen. As she watched, the world moved around her. Things happened to her friends, her family, and she tapped her fingers against her cubicle walls at a quiet bank and wished for things to happen to her. She waited for her forever, her prince charming, her knight in silver armor. She watched and waited. Nothing.
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Morning was still in the apartment, devoid of incessant clamouring blares and beeps. But no spring morning could be properly hushed, with littler sounds filling the air like air itself filled space. Soft blades of grass became fluttering hearts in the charming gust; fallen leaves shrieked in jest as they scrapped helplessly along the asphalt walkway. These were voices of the wind.
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I remember the blood and broken bones from where your wings were torn off. I remember your cries, the look in your eyes pleading for help. I remember the hands of Michael gripping my arm, keeping me from rushing to your aid.
Now, I sit down beside the pool that looks into your world. I wonder if heaven really was worth you.
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For some odd reason I cared about him, more than he will probably ever know. But when it all comes down to it, I liked the boy he could have been better than the one he was choosing to be. I hated that he could never see that version of himself.
This boy taught me that “settling” is the most unattractive quality.
3 tags
“Am I screwed up?”
“What?”
“Do you think I’m one of those people who has to take a pill everyday just to seem normal?”
“No, darling, you’re not. I love you a lot, you know.”
“I know.”
She must’ve been lying, because now I’m sitting in front of a man I don’t know, telling him all these things normal...
4 tags
He was struggling in this life, but he had this desire, this uncontrollable urge to answer the question of whether God was true. He made a decision to gamble everything to find his answer.
In fact, his last action wasn’t really a gamble. He played it so there would only be one outcome. The gamble was his faith in what happened next.
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They left you all alone. You realize there’s only two organs that care when someone is gone. The skin misses their touch, sensory memory that has a craving starts to fade. The heart (for of course it has to be included), no longer beats the way it did in their presence. Instead, it plods to rhythm of life that now overcomes you.
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He’s not a beautiful boy, but his smile lights the whole room and stops your heart. You want to take his hands into yours and press your face into his chest and breathe him in. You want to be his happiness and make him smile.
He’s not beautiful, but he’s easy to fall in love with. He carries a light within him.
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I’m not scared to jump. Hitting the ground is worth it, if it means I can have the fall; the escape.
Closing my eyes, I take a step closer to the edge and imagine the bliss that’s going to surround me. A carefree dive into a sea of freedom.
Inching closer, I whisper “escape” as I fall back into the wind.
Infinite.
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He knelt to the ground and inhaled her breath. And she looked down on him, glowing, blushing. It could have been love, but she was far too far, far too different for him. It could’ve been love, but she was the sun and he was human. And while he couldn’t caress her, he made up by wearing her color on his skin.
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She was fragile. She was jaded. She was falling apart.
He was reckless. He was impulsive. He was on the edge.
Alone, she couldn’t hold herself together.
In his arms, however, she was invincible.
On his own, he was slipping into insanity. That is, until she gave him reason to care.
Apart, they were just two broken souls.
Together, they were indestructible.
3 tags
I never really had to try to integrate you into my life – you just fit seamlessly, like you’d been right there from the start, like you’d never leave.
I suppose it was only expected that all the toughness would come in the aftermath, when I am trying desperately to learn how to deal with the vacantness left behind because of your departure.
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The snow looked almost warm, a cosy blanket on a cold December night. Millie yearned to wrap herself up in this blanket, to make snow angels, to caress, to examine and most of all, to enjoy its sensuous and exhilarating feel before it snapped its sharp white teeth and transformed from a magical landscape into a battlefield, defined by injury and illness.
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You whispered something, as the train pulled out and gathered speed, taking me away from you. I saw your lips move. You mouthed a handful of small words as I sped away from you forever, knowing full well that I couldn’t hear you. I wanted to jump off, but I didn’t. I saw your lips move, but I never saw you again.
5 tags
“What do you think my future wife will be like?” he asked.
“Nothing short of… amazing,” I sighed. “She’ll love you forever and be your best friend.”
“Yeah…” his voice trailed off, eyes focusing on nothing. “I’ll be lucky to have her.”
I forced myself to smile, before turning away and mumbling into my pillow,...
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It was nothing like I thought it’d be. Far more messy, not neat and packaged like they tell you. In fact, it was precisely that feverish lack of regard that awakened the previously undiscovered, dormant subsection of my brain: the part that requires more and more. It can never be satisfied. You did this to me. Look what you turned me into.
3 tags
Open the doors to your wardrobe. Recognizable, all the items. You sang in front of a crowd for the first time in that jacket. The rain soaked through that shirt; it never looked the same again.
Unfathomable. How can the garments that danced with you and illuminated your being look so lifeless now? They’ve been hanged, met their end. Just like you.
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Although your hand is in mine, I can’t feel your touch. Your tears fall from you face, but they fail to wet my heart. We both yearn for that one perfect moment… to feel our souls resonate in that beautiful symphony of bliss. My head clears, my heart slows, and I am no better for it. Why do I always do this?
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She liked him. She liked him a lot. She thought he liked her too, seeing as how he bought her movie tickets, went on a date with her, told his friends he liked her. He was awesome, and she wanted to spend as much time as she could with him. She thought he had wanted the same. But alas, he hated her.
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Every glance in the mirror was a cold one. Though nobody said anything negative towards her, she continued to look away at that reflective glass piece. She’d heard plenty of stories about females looking upon these in vein, such as from Snow White.
She didn’t care for looks. It wasn’t about her appearance.
She was afraid of seeing who she had become.
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“So?”
He chewed and swallowed. “A stygian nightmare.”
She stuck out her tongue.
Another bite. “It’s good. Really good.”
“I hope so. The recipe wasn’t easy to find,” she said, starting on her own plate. “Or the ingredients. I’m just glad she believed the story about the puppy and got in the car.”
“You’ll have to make this again.”
“I will. Soon.”
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Tears streamed down her face. She struggled to maintain her composure in the sitting room. He held her as she sobbed silently, feeling more helpless than he ever had his entire life. They sat together, crumbling under the weight of their decisions, past and present.
They’d both always wanted twins.
But after today, that dream would only hurt them to think about.
4 tags
A bad idea and a “but what if…” No matter what you do, you can’t get rid of that ‘but’. It’s like a bug that you spray a whole can of raid on, then some bug spray (which does kill bugs… who knew?), then some nail polish remover just for good measure, but it just won’t die. And it never goes away.
5 tags
The entire formation salutes in unison. No one moves a muscle. The flag draped casket holding my friend is slowly carried onto the cargo hold of a cargo jet. As taps plays from a lone bugle, the sound cuts like a knife into my heart. The entire formation drops the salute in unison. I watch the plane disappear. Gone but not forgotten.
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He took her in his arms and kissed her. But not just kissed her. Felt every inch of her with his heart just as much as he did with his hands. Three years of feelings held back for lack of physical presence and this was the outcome. She felt her stomach drop and her heart go, and she didn’t even fight back.
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Thomas sat, simple enough, and watched the robins loop and swirl through the damp Mississippi air. The shrieking laughter of summer children pierced the lazed murmurings of the couple next door, who were more of a relic than their home.
“Dinner time!”
Thomas stood, wincing from a hair caught in the cast, and crutched his way inside. Tonight, they were having corn.
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I scream. Or at least I think I scream, I can’t tell anymore. My thoughts and my throat burn equally; smoke and malice fill my lungs. “Please,” I plead with no one as the air thickens around me. “Help.” I crumble to the floor, my skin melting into my soul. My eyes close, this is the end. Then I feel the hands.
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Humming whispers flood through the crowd of tiny insects. Film noir stars, now long dead, rise from their graves to speak of tragedy through the holes in their jaws. ‘Repetition and precision’, they preach. Distorted words and dead presentation cue the epic’s end. Lights dim. Eerily dark in the theatre, dancing flies take their bows and the worms clap with invisible fingers.
5 tags
Frustration pent up inside me and a surge of fire fought back against the water as I punched the tiled wall. I screamed to no one. My hands pushed through my wet, tangled hair and met at the back held each other as I looked to the roof and crumbled. Our song played, reminding me that,
I am burnt. From both ends.
5 tags
Miss Cordelia Chadwick is pleased to announce your invitation to join her for a night of festivities located at the Chadwick Estate this forthcoming Wednesday evening. Please note that all guests are required to stay the night in the luxurious accommodations available to you in the manor by Miss Chadwick herself. There is no need to bring anything; all will be provided.
2 tags
Gifku →
Animated GIFs and Japanese poetry. The way nature intended it to be.
August 2011
52 posts
2 tags
For days I could see the flattened down spot where we lay in the long grass and watched the stars, two bodies in one sleeping bag. I would glance at it as I rushed to work, thinking of those innocent nights before things changed. Today I heard the lawnmower’s snarl, and as I peered out the window the spot became entirely indistinguishable.