Clockwork

In between the moments where we are dead, the world is a whirlwind ride of ups and downs, lively silences and murderous conversations meant to remind us that everything, by its very nature, is of fickle heart and feeble mind. It is when we are dead that we are safe. The sad part is, we are most alive when we are in fear of dying, and we can't decide which is better; knowing that you stand to fear nothing ever again, or fearing that everything you want to stay alive for is going to one day be lost forever anyways, so what is the point?

We are deadwood, floating down a river, sat in reflections of what we have done.

Shakespearean

They sat, shivering in the blistering heat, numb stupors gnawing at their guts, wondering why it always poured when it rained.

"Why have you forsaken me?"

It wasn't your fault. Tonight, I peered into the heart of a coward, and came to know it was mine.

Dance Like You Mean It

They sat on the central reservation, all zen, the highway traffic blazing past them. They sat there, fingers touching familiar fingernails, perfect ones, sharp ones, nails cut daily, nails left to grow. They sat saying nothing, hearing the grass grow, hearing engines shriek and drone. They sat staring into each other's hearts, feeling sunshine play with their hair. They sat carving oceans from the earth, and mountains from their goosebumps. They sat, lost in the heat of a stranger's summer and the shadow of a weeping mother.

"We're going to have to leave soon."

"I know, but just...stay with me a while."

They sat still, remembering the names of every valley they had sown with the seeds of their contentment. They sat alone together, freeing others of the sense of touch. They sat for a while yet, uncertainly in love with the shape of things to come. They sat, having forgotten each other's name, but knowing the angles they had formed in their sleeps. They sat until the grass started to yellow, and the stains of their patience bled into skin, a souvenir in the image of a kiss.

They sat until they absolutely had to leave, and they rose, having no recollection of how they had gotten to where they were. Having risen, they despaired for direction. Having no solution, they agreed to part ways, to see if the roads they chose to walk in that moment might one day lead them back to a yellowed patch of grass, and the sound of each other's names.

The Great Cold

When I am dust

don't sweep me up

and carry me out to the wind

Please let me rest

in my Sunday best

till God forgives me my sins

On The Beach

Would that slumber meant I could sink myself into your arms. I would sleep forever.

Segue/Fugue

In the quieter moments of solitude, he would crave company so zealously, his blood vessels turned to worms, unwanted guests he felt compelled to rip out of his body. They crawled from cavity to inner cavity, making themselves at home, telling him it was such a pleasure to ensure he wasn't lonely. He broke his skin with his monstrous claws, but did not have the heart to drive them out.

-

"Tell me," she said, "why it was that you left again?"

"Why I left? I'm afraid I can't say. I don't know why I left. It just felt like I had to."

"...I don't believe you. You always had reasons."

"Yes. Did. I always DID. One day I decided to leave, and deciding to leave was reason enough for me to leave."

"Even if it meant it would change who we were?"

"Not all changes are conscious decisions, my love. Sometimes, things change in the blink of an eye, in the moment an atom splits, or a trigger slips. Change occurs as and when it does, and sometimes, it is only the privilege of hindsight that lets us recognize change for what it actually is. Or was."

"And so you changed?"

"I didn't change for the sake of it, but yes. I had changed. And I didn't understand it, either. Still don't, in fact."

"Why are you here again?"

"Because, my dear. I held all the keys to your heart. I just couldn't find your chest."

"And now?"

"Now....it seems I have found the right chest, but none of the keys would like to fit."

"And so?"

"I am at a crossroads. Either I need to find other keys, or I stand at the wrong chest."

She trembled for an instant, before composing herself. "No. There is only one key that fits here, and I hold it for someone. I do not think it is meant for you."

He stood quiet. "Then I am so sorry to have imposed. Please, allow me to find my way out."

"No."

-

They had stayed, waiting for change. They spent their times disassembling each other in the hopes of finding the right parts to fall into the right sequence, trying to make the key fit the lock.

Change came, and quietly decided to stay with them. By the time they saw it, it had been too long, but they were happy with what they had lost, and happy with what they had built anew.

-

I don't understand it.

Neither do I.

Then we agree.

It would seem so.

I don't want to lose you.

Neither do I.

-

Surviving the Blues

She sat there, crying, hoping he would know how to stop her tears.

He savaged her with words, and collected April flowers for her to water.

The Only Route to Escapism

"I love you because it is your shape that I see when I feel peace in the caves of our deepest ecstasies."

"That's so sweet. Can you fix the bed now, please?"

We're filling in all the caves with debris. The roof's about to fall, and we'll be in here forever.

I have to get out. Once I'm outside, it doesn't matter where the caves go. I'll never remain there again.

The Loom of Your Thoughts

Am I the only one here thinking about the other incessantly?

I remember you thought your care packages were pathetic. I wonder what that means for the fact that my biggest headache is how to make sure I get to keep the cartons in which you sent me my stuff, because a greater love than that could not be signified, except by the use of mere cardboard, and a name and address, handscrawled with inattentive care.

Those boxes, I will keep for life. One day, I might use one to ship my heart out to sea, so I can take some time away from it and wait till someone returns to sender.

Till then, I will keep the boxes, and you can have my thinking heart.

Close your eyes

These days I just try to keep to myself

Well aware I've lost touch with everyone else

I understand that I'm fading away

I'd rather play dead than play catch up

Because no one really cares all that much

I can't keep having the same conversations

I look to the floor to keep concentration

Focused hard on every single word

My nails are dug deep and my stomach hurts

I am selfish it seems but I'm trying my best to breathe

Hoping you don't notice as I keep laughing

Penitence

He switched instruments in the midst of making this strange brand of audible love to her, and she watched, wide-eyed and wondrous, the deep red notes rise into the air as he coaxed the bow across his flesh and bones. There was a radiance to the sound, and a horror she mistook for lust.

He crumpled at her feet, lifeless, as the music continued rising in the room.

They found her next morning, smitten and deaf, save for the melody she lovingly heard him play as he slipped away from her grasp.

I've always been alone, but not lonely. Never has it been the other way around.

Until now.

I'm glad you don't seem to have this horrid sinking feeling like I do. I'm surely drowning, and I never learnt how to swim. It's getting late now. Maybe I'll just hold my breath.

A Hollow Scene

He bit her on the shoulder, where moonlight fought to outshine the pearls in her spine. She arched her back, feeling the pain turn to warmth, his eager hands peeling her skin with tenderness.

"Let me love you like a king."

"But I am not a king."

"Not yet, you aren't."

In the quiet love that followed, she grew herself wings of mercury, and rode the winds to her frozen heaven.

His heart clawed at his throat, as streams burst forth from his heavy lungs.

A Winner Every Time

Why

when it rains

does it always pour?

Open

There's an empty space inside my heart

where the weeds take root.