Swell

This hissing rain is unable to drown the sound of her sobbing, as it is unable to hide the salty trail of her tearmarks, just as the jungle she finds herself in is unable to hide her from the world. The forest throbs with intensity, and her heart throbs somewhere in faraway roars of thunder.

The soaked white cloth clings to her mocha skin. She shivers from the cold, and shudders from the core of her loathing. She looks to the verdant roof of her world, and wonders if she'll be homeless, come the fall. They wouldn't look for her, not yet. When she had nowhere to run to, they'd drag her somewhere she didn't want to be, just when she'd think it okay for her to be where she was.

"Come and get me, if you dare!"

The scream echoed in the hollows of her bones, and the trees and the bees shouted back at her with the same vigour. In silence, through the dense shelter, she caught note of a whisper streaming in, and hid herself tangled in knots.

"Stay, beautiful. We're almost here."

Here, We Lay Forgotten

the moon falls, and the only thing you see for miles is your shadow cast upon the city of shame. Your city, your shame. It's been, what now? hours? days? weeks? Empty to the brim. Empty sex, empty bottles, emptiness pouring forth. Empty reflections caught in the mirrors of the disco globe. Empty with endless nights, fuelled by desire, drinks, the want of a good time. Nights that were there, but you can't place them for the life of you. Bare attempts to find something to hold on to, something to make yours, and make yourself a part of. You hear their voices, them telling you it's okay, it's not worth it, it's inevitable, it's going to happen when it's going to happen. But you only listen to your heart. and Your heart says enough is enough. This is not you. This is not what you want. You're strong, you're free, you're the single most important thing to you. You'll hold your head up high, and you'll shed the skin you've been wearing to bathe the world in your glow. You will get what you want, and you will need not fight with it. It will come to you, golden platter borne. You shake the demons out of your hair, and you step into the warm summer morning.

and so, you take your first steps towards love.

Axolotl

Life is meant to be lived at right angles. We have to form the perfect intersections, so our lifestyles can be sold. There's people looking through the windows, looking as they walk along the beach, cobalt diamonds shimmering besides the burning sand. It's a hot day, even in the shade. The lights go out, and no one chose to live the way they could if they would be me.

We have to run inside. It's hilarious, really. We're running, but we don't know who to, what from, or why. But it's funny when we're running, and jumping, and skipping, and in love. So we do what it takes to make us laugh. Breathless, we stop at the couch, and pant at each other.

Clutching her hair, I tell her to stay right there. Suppressing a giggle, I tell her the kids are in the back, and we're about to go to the beach. It's all so damned ridiculous, really, but they're waiting. And then, I can't sit on the couch anymore. I can't breathe. I need air. I need to know that windows are not mirrors, and left is not right.

She calls me back. I tell her to stay put. To not panic, so I can stop panicking, and get back to hold her hands. The kids, I tell her, think of the kids. And then I laugh. There aren't any kids, not yet at least.

"No, not the beach. Let's take them to Disneyland."

I shake my head, and laugh. "There is no Disneyland, baby. We HAVE to go to the beach. It's right there."

She titters. I am drenched, and the water's 10 miles from where I am. The kids are still in the back.

I can't stop shivering.