Between the jars: ‘In space we dream’

‘P’erl’ came the voice. Softly, like a snowflake landing on her ear. Her eyes were closed still, she felt the webbing around her body, keeping her in place. She was hesitant to open them, such dreams she’d had, and they were in danger of slipping away if she opened her eyes. It was so rare for her to sleep, and when she did, the night flashes came, robbing her of any peace. She was unusual for her kind. The rest of Europa never had dreams, never suffered the nightmares of other worlds parade across her mind like she did. Calling out in despair and anger. She’d learned not to sleep. She had learned a lot just to live.

It came again ‘P’erl’, a little stronger; this time the other side of her head. Her eyes flickered apart and scanned, she found no-one there. Her room lay beneath her empty and quiet. She hung up in the rafters, encased in the white webbing that held sleep, and dreamless sleeps for everyone but her. She knew the voice now, she had known it before. Her inner self telling her, it was time to go.


They are coming back....The lady of the jars and girl from Europa. New entry coming soon. To read the previous installments check out the story so far.

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Peck

There, can you hear it?
A relentless tapping.
Incessant as the dark which captures the night.
It comes and never leaves. Beating out the marrow of my bones.
Do not shake your head in disbelief, it’s a nightmare for which I seek relief.
Hello, it’s me here the fluttering reminder.
You inside me, what is that sound?
It’s breaking my will and senses down.
I’m the little bird that was on your windowpane.
I came inside when you opened that vein.

And now you tap inside my skull all day?
I’m here yes, and happy to say;
better me than the moths and ghosts.
Who’d nibble at your heart like toast.
If I move to the light, will you follow?
I told you once, your head is not hollow; you know that I am here to stay.
For how long?
Well, I couldn’t say.
I hope my fluttering would lodge that organ.
Of pulsing grey and tangle webs.
Of thoughts and hopes inside this head.
Lodge them why, what do I need?
I am safe alone, without any need;
of impulses that force me out of comfort.
Or being lost, failed abandoned then hurt.
I tap and knock as an irritant reminder.
You’re wasting time here, like a static sidewinder.
An empty column of force and wind.
That’s fading fast, anorexically thinned.

(Sigh)
I know, you’re right, but what can I do?
I had my dreams, but away they flew.
I’ll tell you what, there is tomorrow.
I’ll start it all then, and dreams will follow.
Then I will carry on with my tapping.
To keep you from your easy napping.
I said tomorrow I’ll chase those dreams.
For now please cease these needless screams.
Of forcing me, when I’m feeling forced.
Very well my friend, you steer your course.
But If not today, then tell me then.
If not then why, and perhaps then when?

Violence

Still sleeping with the light on.
Yet the shadows find you.
Creeping, and licking at your soul.
Silently, they claw at your throat.
Spilling your dreams across the floor.
Tomorrow sits on your windowsill watching.
Yesterday slithers out the backdoor.
You let the violence inside when you stopped believing.
When the prayers ended, the devil crept in with the rain.
It eats you from inside, this doubt.
Spins your soul on a thread to weave into nightmares.
These days, your empty bag of bones drifts through the hours.
Captured in screenshots with vacant eyes and sad smiles.
Even god cracked open your skull to peek inside.
But all she found was dust and despair.
I can squeeze the blood and pain from you now.
I can rest the history of the decade on your spine.
Hearing the vertebrae crack and crumble.
Then rip the cells apart looking for love.
But there will be nothing to feel.
Nothing makes waves on your silent sea.
For you are numbed to the world and your own salvation.
Collapsing eternally into now.

Caged

A song that rattles deep.
Light, like a feathery touch.
Drifting slowly from my soul.
To break a cage is to break the fear that makes my bones.
Chalky claustrophobic bars that dull the sound.
But do not diminish it entirely.
The bird in me longs to fly.
And like love, should soar into the heavens.
To taste the clouds on its tongue.
Yet entombed it flutters. Making a nest in the nightmare.
A locked up lark who wonders if it’s night or day.
When to sing its morning chorus.
The sun has been stolen, so it sings as the hours fade.
Desperate to soar.
Eager to believe.
Hoping the song will someday be heard.

Fright night

(from the vault)

All year round he kept to himself.
Quiet and content, like a book on a shelf.
It was Halloween when the tables turned.
And in his head, those thoughts had churned.
To live it up, go mad and wild.
To put on costumes, like any other child.
He loved that night when he fitted in.
And wasn’t shamed or drenched in sin.
He could go out, and talk to others.
His friends, his mum and all his brothers;
accepted him and played for ages.
Some souls to flick through his dusty pages.
It was Halloween he loved and longed for.
The candy, the skulls; the dismembered gore.
That was the time he loved the most.
For poor Charlie was such a lonely ghost.

Don’t believe the past

Unwrap the dreams for another day.
Place them on the table while the time slips away.
Cough up a resolution, to the disorder and the chaos.
Let them take your blood type.
Dig you up like dinosaur bones.
These bones, so tired and hollow.
Broken from the strain of life.
Blink. Breathe. Begin.
Box up those nightmares.
Sweep the past into the corner of the solar system.
Douse yourself in oil and light a spark.
And blaze into a new collection of hours.
Of your borrowed time on earth.
For who knows how long we have.

A dream turned inside out

Stutter.
Veiled saffron words.
Broken from your teeth.
(To hear you speak of it)
Melted away like the hazy grey of subterfuge.
Dulled sparklers in the ice cream that stings my mind.
Your new take puts my city to bed.
Breathing gold into my pulse.
Beat. As it runs away.
Mark that apology and raise your voice.
Shake me, wake me from this slumber.
A nightmare twisted into a dream.
Coiling like a peppermint candy.
Collapsed into an insomniac shudder.
A lot less frightening after your confession.
This is what I’ve seen.