The house weeps. He grunts. He twists. And he grunts with pain. I hear him each night I lie in my bed to fall asleep. I begin to turn and twist myself. Is it the pain, much too incessant to bear? Or is it the hauling noise he makes that makes me scared? I am not too sure. I lie in my bed thinking he is sad. Just like me. I lie quietly listening to him. His incoherent whining and whispering forms sinister sounds of ghosts. The house lives. He breaths. Sometimes I can hear him breath within me.


He bewilders my dreams as their procession falls astray. Half awake I see my dreams scatter toward uninformed directions. I chase them with a fish net in my hand. I see her then. Clearly. A little girl in her white frock with blue ribbons chasing the butterflies in the gardens of Eden. I begin to chase her. My Dream.


The words form then. In the same chase I have been part of, I see them take different shapes. Shapes of my heart; Leered. Loved. Betrayed. Scavenged. Distorted. Dumped.


“Are you not to write? You haven’t for long. You must write” they urge. And so I write. The chase begins and I become part of it. I write.


In the reflection of your questions I see myself drowning
in unreflective depths
Save me my Lord for I know not who you are
for I know not who I am
You corrupt me
and in my mind I am a saint
You save me
and in my mind I am fucked
They read my words and praise me with bravos.


“Beautiful. Sublime.” One remarks


“Yes, she knows how to turn emotions into words”


My words in pain makes them want to hear me. My silent face makes them want to shut me. They feel joy seeing me in pain. My face is devoid of all else. Is it only the face they see? It must be. Because they don’t feel what I do. They don’t hear what my eyes say. They don’t hear what I hear. They haven’t reached what I have. They don’t speak what I speak. All else is futile.


Speak you bitch before I get bored of you. The irony is they only smile, the smiles I fear the most. Nothing else. We make out then. Everything is back to normal.


In circling motion of your kisses
as they die
before they reach my skin
the scent of lavender
the scent of something
un-breathing
un-relented
mmm… I breath it all in
but I will never forgive you
for you have my soul


I wake up lying there. Erased of all the feelings. All the hurts. All the joys. Only the silence remains. Now, where are my clothes?


No! Where is my fucking reward?


I think what I need is you. Strange, that I feel you but I don’t have you. Neither of you. Strange, is it not? I cannot have the two divinities in my life. Yet I do worship them. Strange indeed, that I worship God and still feel alone. Strange indeed that I feel love but I don’t have it.


Why don’t you listen to me? Why don’t you see what lies in your hands? You are blinded by what you do not have. And I am blinded by what I do have. Tell me then, who is the one deprived?


Give me then what I deserve, if not the jewels of life and death. You. And I shall gain eternity.


04.08.04