Manifest the everyday nightmare

Partie un:

You motioned for me to quietly enter the room. I could feel the tenseness of the air. The walls seemed to contract and wrap themselves around me. You sat there with no expression on your face. That face, the one I had touched so many times. Kissed it, smelt it, longed to be near enough to it to count your eyelashes. Now it glared back at me like an empty pool. The lights began to flicker, stuttering out their watts in a rhythm I can only attune to the beat of your heart. The gun didn’t bother me, it was aimed at my head throughout but I knew this was all leading to something. The beginning of the end.

(I noted that it was aimed here and not my heart…maybe you’d finally figured out, there wasn’t one in this body of mine)

This part of the Jeykll and Hyde, this side of crazy. You asked me to sit down, the first time you’d spoken. Little daggers aimed at my ears, rushing with the blood and fresh thoughts to my head. You were so cordial, yet each word spat at me like kids on a council estate. I chose to stand, my one last defiance in our petty war. You told me there was something for me on the table, I looked down to see a wooden box.

You told me to open it.

This was not what I expected. Your look gave nothing away. Nothing except hurt burning from your eyes and an anger that could not by concealed. The box lay in a pool of blood, thick and viscous, floating on this horrific sea.

Deuxième partie:

Your eyes dared me to ask you what it was, like I didn’t know. The deluded pleas of the guilty, while all around the judges think of what punishment would be best fitting. The dying cat of curiosity rose and fell within me, and I turned away. I could not look, I could not commit to the ending so willingly. The metal felt cool against my temple, though it was your smell that made me aware of what you were doing. It crawled over me like the scent of the sea.

The gun clicked. I felt your soul near and shut my eyes, longing for you to turn my head and kiss me. Those days were long gone. A quick stab in the back. The knife that had, but till a moment ago, seemed mysteriously absent sent the tiny nerves in my body cascading like fireworks. Your mouth came close to my ear and you whispered the words I never believed you would utter. As if pulled from a dream.

(Truth is, you never said these three words with any conviction that would render it believable in the past, yet something told me this was the cold hard truth that my mind was digesting).

The sound of birds filled the room, and forced me to open my eyes. I turned and saw you there, eyes aflame and a soul locking its door forever on me. Never to be seen again by my pathetic searching pupils. Feathers fluttered down upon us as the ceiling filled with vultures, gathering and yearning with their hungry beaks. Their black hisses and calls split my ears. The box on the table flew open and out poured the remaining blood that flowed towards us like sticky lava. The contents bobbed on the surface momentarily before submerging into the crimson depths.

I sighed, you grabbed me and kissed me full on the mouth. You then sighed as I turned the gun and shot us both.

Partie trois:

No reasons, all feelings. Moving in a spaced state devoid of structure and responsibility. Bloody and weeping like the tears of a god. Wounds can split like the red sea. A hatred is awakened. After this, just indifference.

You watch as the violence hangs in the air. Feathers fly like tuffs of snow. Little teeth roll in my head like a stone in a can. A jingle like Christmas bells. The red of the season. How many times had you pulled that trigger? Which one of us started the fight? A rage had descended months ago. Welcomed in to the cold like a long lost cousin.

(If you were to ask me if love was still a figure in this theatre, I would have nodded a reply that confirmed my sad loyalty to the romance of death. Still, love can save the day right? Love is a weapon of choice.)

The room feels small and crowded. The bodies on the floor gasping for air and space. What died there that day, was only hope. Lust would always remain. Tragedy was the best re-frame for boxing that moment in our history. I pulled you off my skin, and spat out the tooth that had pierced my tongue. Like many words that came off as daggers, the tooth had left its bloody mark.

The box remained, the contents gone. Washed away in the crimson chaos. I would find it again, I was sure of that. But for now, agony and pain were to be swallowed and sanctified.

And as our ghosts left the room, stained in red, their heads hung down. Pulled by shame and gravity, wondering where it all began. Two little shadows quietly wept in the corner. Is this you and me, is this all the good that is left? Broken and crumbling in sad pathetic tears?

I would never know, because you shot them too.

Twist towards memories

We are changed forever.
Never the same.
Crawling out of this chrysalis.
Rubbing tired eyes with filthy fingers of the future.
Everything given, is repeated.
Everything stolen, is forever lost.
The future begins to fade like a dying star.
Caught and taken on the threshold of a coming storm.
Love came and went.
Permeated, then evaporated like the morning fog.
How we longed to be held safe in those arms.
Rocked into safety as the wind above howled.
But everything they gave, was taken away.
Everything promised, now sold.
Leaving broken bones and the residue of knowing.
A maddening knowledge of what the other sees.
A heavy heart feeling their need to go.
Now each evening I wave goodbye to the sun.
And welcome the loneliness of the moon.
But all too soon, it too departs.
And the rays that hit me in the dawn feel different and colder.
Re-birthed, repackage for tomorrow.
Threatening another day without you.

London burning

Heavy scented air, the smell of ash and autumn.
Of change brimming like a supernova.
To watch only, yet still participate; leaves me shaking.
That blood on the sky, smeared into a ruby rose.
It stains my eyes and heart.
I watch as London burns with a fire of sadness.
Of a past ignited into nothingness.
But I’m not looking for someone to blame.
Those flames lick like a consequence that is buried deep in my hands.
Red and scorched like god’s eyelashes.
Choking out the hope and happiness.
It rages on, bringing ruins to our appetites.
Finally snuffed out by huge holy tears.

21:09

Staring down the dark street, he watched as the lamp-posts flickered in and out of light. Luminous reflection seeming to be running off an invisible heartbeat. Stuttering. Struggling.

He felt the same. He was tired. He’d run the last two miles and his calf muscles now ached. He’d stopped momentarily to ease the stitch that was spreading in his side. Stabbing needles from Satan’s fingertips.

Nearly there.

He saw the traffic had built up on Bower Street, he’d actually heard the car horns and the angry shouts before he saw the rows of taillights snaking away. A great stationary monster of red eyes going nowhere.

Turning left, he hurried away from the angry voices and quickly checked the time. 20.45. It had taken longer than he’d expected. The transport had imploded on itself and the city was heaving in unpreparedness that night. He felt the sweet on his forehead, the stingy sizzle of desperation and determination. A light rain now flecked onto his skin as he passed by houses. The glow of life inside reminded him what he was doing this for. The eyes of the buildings glowed with little tears from the rain, happy that people were inside. All together for the first time in years.

He sprinted, tripped and surged on. Finally getting to the door five minutes later. Too little, too late?

Better late than never he supposed, rapping frantically on the door.

The door swung open hastily. The smell of candles and coffee greeted him along with the flood of a welcoming light and a relived smile.

“Thank god.” They said to him, as he collapsed into their arms.

Tears, sweet and rain ran unabashed down his cheeks. His heart, which had threated to give up on him, pulsed to a different beat. The feeling he got whenever he saw them. The tingly skin sensation that tickled around his ears and neck. He smelled them, hugged them. Taking these new feelings deep within himself.

“I can’t believe it.” They said as the broke apart and he stepped inside.

The small house threw its arms around him and beckoned inside to safety.

“It’s pandemonium out there”. He replied, stepping further in and following them up the stairs. He glanced quickly at the front room, the warming sweet smelling candles flickered in the small room while the television screamed out silently with the volume down. The news informing no-one to things that everyone already knew.

“I’m glad you made it, I was getting worried it would be too late.” They said, settling down onto the bed. He took in the vision, the moment and tried to keep himself together.

He followed, not bothering to take off his shoes but throwing off the jacket which the light rain had clung to.

The clock on the side clicked over to 9pm.

They drew into one another, kissing tenderly. Touching each other’s hands and diving deep into one another’s eyes. Tears swelled, wiped away by fingers that trembled in the glowing room.

“I had to be here. I had to come.” He said. Knowing that they already knew.

“I didn’t expect it to be like this. I’m just glad you’re by my side.” Their voice stuttered. “I love you.” they said, and closing their eyes. Not out of shame; but to a sad realisation it would be the last time.

“I love you.” The replied. “And I will find you again.”

The held each other closer as the lights died.

21:09. The time the world ended.

The Signal

A signal came, deep and low.
It really came aeons ago.
But only dinosaurs ever heard the sound.
As they fell and fossilised into the ground.
And in parts, turned to oil.
All beneath this earthen soil.
But that sound now comes, and harkens all.
A subtle warning, an eerie call.
And reverberates deep in your soul.
This brand new road sign, this totem pole.
Which climbs beyond what we think we know.
For as above, then so below.
And with its promise of great revelation.
Also threatens some devastation.
Now cherish each and every moment.
For tomorrow cannot promise more time bestowments.
So be scared, be happy; but please be smart.
For every end, always has a start.

Exhumed

Underneath and in the ground.
Buried deep without a sound.
Lies my body, its shell and bones.
Under layers of rocks and stones.
A tyrannosaur heart that roared at first.
But all too soon, swelled and burst.
You killed me once with a flaming comet.
Across my sky, your departing sonnet.
Our love, which first, defied distinction.
All too soon embraced extinction.
It could not survive the battles we raged.
Like warring beasts, housed in a cage.
You bit, and snapped and left my dying.
A fallen giant, cold and crying.
And so my flesh transformed to oil.
The precious black gold beneath the soil.
And you evolved and thus migrated.
Our DNA of love abated.