ϟ The Tear
A salty tear trickles down flawless skin with no direction and no purpose; born from misery and doomed to an existence of futility. It dribbles into existence not knowing why it has been created or what pain its maker is suffering; yet it knows it should not be here, that it is unwanted. It wanders across an unnamed land, curiously troubled by its lack of understanding. It longs for guidance; for some direction of which way to head. In this open space no patch is distinguishable from the next. It circles on, dizzying itself, tiring of its naivety and the surrounding mystery. Suddenly it realises it is being followed, followed by others like itself. Should it be fearful? Should it be comforted by those who possess the same confusion? The urgency to keep moving is overwhelming and it hurtles forward. The others are getting closer and the same sense of haste and bewilderment tumbles through them. This innocent tear dives onwards; questions that will never have answers thrash and pound inside it. Plunging further into perplexity, its fate looms ever closer. Without any warning it is wiped away in one simple sweep. No explanation. No reason. No answers.
ϟ An Unforgettable Encounter
Palms touch and fingers entwine
Seizing reality, fears and inhibitions left behind
Sweeping suggestion, skin riddled with truth
A caress that strokes the forbidden desires of your mind
A glance to savour, a delicious entice
Passion and lust that explode into sight
Thoughts swimming beneath steamy blue eyes
Of tightly locked gazes and lip biting nights
Deep heated tones you cannot help but adore
Words that discover places yet to be explored
Harmonious sighs drift through the dim light of the room
Succumbing to gluttonous desires for more
Time slows down as bodies finally meet
Heat rising, hypnotising, infatuation running deep
Silence so golden, revelling in peace
A cool gentle breeze lifts you into sleep
My body began to burn fiercely as I clenched my fists by my side. My nails dug into my palms drawing blood; red streaks dribbled down my fists staining my pale skin. My muscles tensed and the blaze that engulfed me burned ever stronger. My body became paralysed as I stared intently through blind eyes. How to escape this inferno? I waited as my body was scorched further, unable to flee the flames. Not a breath broke through my lips; not a movement from my limbs; not a salty tear fell from my eyes, yet the pain would not cease. My skin was blackened and my thoughts were flaky; my fingers twisted in agony and my eyes crazed, I wondered how much of this torture I could endure. I longed for unconsciousness but the nightmare would only continue.
ϟ The Half-Arsed Suicide
Here you are in the middle of the road with headlights speeding towards you. In this situation what exactly are you meant to do? You had an agreement with yourself to stick this one out but now there’s a voice telling you it doesn’t seem like such a great idea; to be perfectly honest it seems like the worst fucking idea you ever had. This voice is that annoying part that instinctively wants to survive; it keeps droning on about the mess that will be left behind and that this could possibly hurt quite a substantial amount. You’ve always hated that voice; it’s like that friend that gets invited everywhere just because you’ve known them since you were shitting in nappies; so you used to have baths with them when you were a toddler, does that really mean you care about what university they’re going to or how many cats they’ve got? Yeah, this voice is just like one of those idiots, they ruin your night out and now all you can think about is their aged three translucent torso sloshing around in bubble bath. “Run” it keeps shouting, or more precisely, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!” Always telling you the things you could really do without hearing. It’s always so bloody convincing though. The plan was really quite simple but now you’re on the verge of pissing yourself in terror and weeping like a kid that dropped their ice cream. In all fairness it’s not like you signed a contract in blood or anything; if you were to drop out of this then the only person you have to answer to is yourself and you know you won’t be that hard on you. Look at it this way, you’re standing in the middle of a main road at two in the morning in the hope that someone is doing at least double the speed limit and that they’re also heartless enough to plough into the quite clearly inebriated figure having trouble keeping their feet rooted in the same position for more than five seconds; this does not sound like the type of plan thought up by someone who really wants to kill themselves. It’s not even really killing yourself; it’s letting someone else accidently kill you. Not only would you be dead but you’d be sending an innocent person to jail for manslaughter because you’re too pansy to do the deed yourself. This plan all seems a bit half-arsed; possibly the most half-arsed plan ever heard of. Maybe you should just pick yourself up, stumble over the curb, have a bit of a cry and then go home and get into bed; does that sound good to you?