night terror.
a crash course on human nature:
discontentment, lust, destruction.
we rinse and repeat.
i knew a soul like it was my own, once.
we were in perfect sync throughout our
years of discord. shells, we were, buried
in sands the colour of ash and we found
eachother through sheer coincidence.
one and the same, two rings of silver
worn over time until there was no shine
left within us. we would walk our paths
of dust for days
[never running. our lives were chasing
a short space behind, but we never ran]
until there was no grey dust left to walk
on. carried eachother when our feet bled
and lay down in the smashed glass shards
at the end of our almost-desolate journey.
i loved him, once.
more powerful and encompassing than any
love in all of history, but along the way his
jigsaw pieces got misplaced and he was
left with no eyes to see and no mouth to
speak. a portrait never to be regained.
a trained iris will see all,
just so long as you know what to look for.
you may see as far as a person's precise genetic make-up,
the wispy white trails of half-thoughts crawling between the walls of their skull.
you can see all,
but only if you're looking hard enough.
-
witches' kisses, they say, will suck a vacuum right in the center of your body.
an empty tomb, a person can never be resurrected after this.
the temptation is said to be vast and heavy,
a mass hanging low from your heart. an ache worth a thousand dead arms and legs.
you are supposed to run from these things
(unless you're fine with letting your entire being be forfeited to some kind of
helpless hole of oblivion where there is no light to make your eyes shine again.)
but he was,
is,
and forever will be
my heart,
beating away at me inside and locked tight from the world behind the cell bars of my bones.
they cast a faint blue hue over him and
he is no longer as beautiful as he was in the beginning.
i have seen him clawing his hands between the rungs of my ribcage,
a complete enchantment,
and i yearn to free him, to free myself.
i have lost the keys to his skeleton cell over time,
and now we are trapped together in a choking embrace,
a place we'll haunt for eternity in the darkness where we cannot sleep.
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Comments
"carried eachother when our feet bled
and lay down in the smashed glass shards
at the end of our almost-desolate journey."
I especially liked that line, as well as the last few ones.
My only complaint is about the subscript, but I can easily adjust that myself on the browser.
--
...after downing two cups of holy Chinese extract with a delicious teaspoonful of mead.
Go show =glass-sword some love.
i'm sorry about the subscript, i just prefer smaller fonts in the presentation of my pieces. at least you can rectify it in your own browser though, right?
--
30 amnesias; après moi, le déluge. je suis désolé.
--
" ...he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire."
--
30 amnesias; après moi, le déluge. je suis désolé.
--
" ...he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire."
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