Malone, You Say?

Somebody

2012-01-28T05:20:00.002Z

Your words are

the crunch of

your steps on

the shards that

I once called

my heart.

Reflection

2012-01-17T22:11:00.003Z

What made it a sad affair

was that I wanted to be there

for the children we thought

would be ours

but we parted ways,

your stripes had changed,

and it was your children

I loved more than us.

Parts

2012-01-11T03:28:00.002Z

we've thrown away love

for the sake of keeping face,

but the sadness sticks

like a bad taste

in the back of your throat.

I listen with my heart,

and kick angrily

at the currents

dragging me down

into thoughts of you.

Knights

2012-01-08T05:23:00.003Z

He asked me for his red rose. I did not have it, but he refused to believe me.

I gave him my gloves instead. We considered it a fair trade.

Cosmopolitan Beaches

2011-12-24T08:34:00.002Z

We didn't like the memories we had

So we decided one night,

without anyone's advice,

that we'd make new ones. Our own.

Ours alone. Not "we", but "me".

But my memory tangles with yours

And we are lost in the kisses of tonight

Your name tastes like fine wine

as the oak bleeds into heavy words

like "idiosyncratic" or "attenuated".

Our cups hold far too much. We overflow

into each others lap. We drink ourselves dry

so the rain won't feel cheated.

In the midst of it all, I remember that

we are just echoes of a quieter voice

heard through the clarity of life and anger.

This will not come again. Not for several moons.

We will think "you should have been there with me.

This memory should have been ours. Not yours. Not mine."

Changing Weather

2011-12-15T19:06:00.002Z

There is always an air of expectancy, and patience. Everyone just stands around, waiting for something to happen. Everyone looks from one face to another, asking why this couldn't have been someone else.

He shakes his head and shakes his heart, while the others shake him by the shoulders. He tells everything to be still. He waits patiently as the sirens go off, and despair looms larger upon them all. He welcomes her as a friend, but she is cold to his touch.

"Is it you I have waited this long for?"

"You waited for whatever you wanted to."

"Good. I'm glad. I'm done waiting."

He walked away. The world began to melt into the shape of her lips tasting the warmth of the lion's mane.

Airscape

2011-11-29T07:13:00.002Z

Heaven holds a sense of wonder

And I wanted to believe that

I get caught up when

the rage in me subsides

Misfit

2011-11-26T22:38:00.003Z

Something. Something about signs,

and freckles in our eyes,

and mirror images.

Something breaks.

Someone cries, and someone wonders why.

Stay. I won't ask you to come down.

0621

2011-11-22T06:21:00.000Z

I'll be right here,

ripping glass to paint your eyes on.

2011-11-22T06:09:00.001Z

What brings you back to this place?

You know you'll never learn.

All Your Friends

2011-11-21T14:44:00.001Z

Nobody hears you.

Nobody's here with you.

Nobody cares.

Jean-Paul

2011-11-17T08:10:00.002Z

You are asleep and I am awake at the most inconvenient of times. Then again, you slept while I stayed, held still by the overwhelming sense of you crashing into my world. Your breaths rattled me, and I shivered with a heady mix of fright and anger and bliss. I could taste your words slipping free from my diaphragm, forming perfect chords in the air. You told me to remember, to think of how it felt to sing from the stomach.

We kissed volcanoes while

you slept, hands held tight,

knuckles turned white,

the fear so alive,

you soaked the pillow as you cried.

The sunlight was a welcome sight. I felt time crawl along my skin, into the heated lines of the covers you pulled over your eyes to keep out the light. I stayed prostrate on the floor, electricity still coursing through me. The sound of your taste told me things will be just fine, but I crawled into bed with you anyways. You awoke with a start, and looked me in the eye.

And you said

"What a glorious morning to say goodbye."

Culture

2011-11-15T01:19:00.001Z

You are not my chameleon heart.

You cannot come and go as you please.

You are not the smell I wake up to anymore.

And it's a sad sad thing.

Alice

2011-11-13T22:18:00.001Z

Yes, it's true.

I am you.

20/20

2011-11-08T17:52:00.003Z

We sat behind the glass, looking at the choppy waters cutting the moon into ribbons. You looked me dead in the eye and said "I can't do this. not yet. I don't even want to do this."

I remember laughing. You wondered why.

I look back now, and I chuckle at the irony.

Died in Wool

2011-11-03T17:44:00.001Z

Nothing's going to change that hopeless feeling I get when you say you understand, but I know you can't.

So throw away the love that we made.

Fair Weather

2011-10-31T18:47:00.002Z

How pleasantly they wish us unwell. Go to hell.

What shall we make of the books that you read?

What shall we make of the words that you said?

What shall we make of the life that you've led?

The sun is high, and the wind is fine.

The time is right for you to die.

Trailer 2

2011-10-25T01:49:00.002Z

This is by far the darkest part of the corridor.

This is where I rest for the day.

This is where I wake through my nights.

This is where you'll find me.

Don't bother looking.

Tear On

2011-10-17T04:30:00.002Z

I am out of ink, so I sink my thoughts into light.

I am out of paper, so I scribble notes on my skin.

I am out of thoughts, so I borrow and I beg.

I am out of sounds, so I stay silent for a bit.

I am out of love, so I give away what I get.

I am out of strength, so I lie as still as I can.

And so I go on, until of course,

The moment comes, when I am out of words.

The Uncertainty of Our Principal Principles

2011-10-12T05:45:00.002Z

Hold on.

Exit Strategy

2011-10-03T23:18:00.003Z

"We are each other's cocoons, and we are monsters waiting to morph into beautiful, wondrous beings."

"But I don't want to cut through you."

She dug her nails in deep and ripped the skin apart.

The light in her eyes became a lightness in her heart.

She walked into freedom, and gave herself a name.

He held his silence, embarrassed and ashamed.

2011-09-20T15:40:00.001Z

Here's to you, and all you give to this world. Happy Birthday. I know it's all the better without me.

Delirium

2011-09-20T04:56:00.001Z

Hold your peace, child. Many other noises will fill the night's silence.

Driving To The Stars

2011-09-18T22:01:00.003Z

I stretch

up to reach you

reaching for the skies

And I leave a gap

where my heart lingered

in the knot in my stomach

And the tangles we made

of bone and tissue

Above I see

99 pieces of glimmer

Spell out your name

Mine in the middle

The taste of your spittle

Still fresh in my throat

The feel of your nails

still bright on my shoulders

from where you ripped the wings

that I gave your name to

Keep driving to the stars

I'll keep watch as I fall.

Emptyful

2011-09-14T00:03:00.002Z

Slowly, I'm drawing out everything and everyone that I chose to define me. I can't remember what I was before them, and despite my fright, my sense of curiosity is overwhelming me into rebirth.

I understand. I know I've traced lines in the sand, that I've pushed everyone back. I did it without wanting to. I did it out of compulsion. When my shadow fades from your doorstep, the air will breathe easier, knowing that it can flow freely without my bitter traps. Do not despair, please. It does not become you. Maybe, in another life where we are more fortunate, we can all become the night sky together, and scare the birds with our laughter and the warmth of our hearts. Till then, we must choose our own roads, and walk them home in the cold.

Remember this. I loved you then. I love you still.

No.

2011-09-12T04:47:00.001Z

I do not accept your gratitude, because what I do is a thankless pursuit. So please, stop.

Soon

2011-09-07T02:44:00.001Z

This rocket seats two

and I saved a space for you.

Conversations

2011-09-06T04:20:00.003Z

"We have to understand. Only one of us will be happy."

"Then I'd rather it be you."

The geese cackled as they sat in silence, the thrum of beating wings drowned out by the beating of their heavy hearts.

Drunk and Afraid of Love

2011-08-31T07:07:00.002Z

Sweet child, how will you feel when your angel deserts you for all that it has done? Will horns grow to spear the halo, and wings molt to bare cloven hooves? Will your love and respect turn to hate and regret, will your tempered heart ever heal its scars? Will forgiveness pave the way for your disappointments? Will the fires consume us when we are lost in the wild?

I hope you find the answers soon. I gave up looking for them.

Children

2011-08-27T05:48:00.000Z

Unfortunately for us, I will always love you.

End

2011-08-26T03:19:00.002Z

He learnt, many years later, that his was a heart made of stone.

That explained all the sinking.

Link

2011-08-13T00:32:00.002Z

My spine is a bridge

for the sounds I make

and the heat of your hands

a wizened guide

leading me to serenity.

2011-08-11T15:56:00.001Z

Step on a dog's tail, and hear it bark for dear life.

Home

2011-08-09T00:51:00.002Z

If I were inside you, I would weep as hard as I want to, in the hopes that my tears could flood every burning inch of you, and put the flames to peace.

Everyone Has Heard Everything Before

2011-08-05T23:01:00.003Z

Every morning, he woke to find himself jumping off the edge. Life's greatest tragedy, he would reflect moments later, was that the current would always stubbornly push him back up to safety. Amongst the stale smells of dry fruits and dead love, everyone figured out what they found lacking in their meals. They made up for it by adding a dash of bitterness or a pinch of guilt or a spoonful of shame, depending on the weather. In utter disdain for the finer things in life, he developed a taste for eating rubber shoes. It helped him keep the boredom out of his mouth.

She floated through from time to time, spraying prayers on the naysayer and the gnostic alike, hoping God would create them a bubble to keep them safe. When she found the scent of rubber where she had gone looking for his teeth, she walked him to the edge again. When he told her of the current, she bent over backwards, so he could walk along her rib cage to get to the other side.

"Go now. You are free."

"Why won't you come with me?"

The currents drowned her voice. He started searching, in turn, for sad eyes and warm smiles.

2011-08-02T22:19:00.001Z

What's the point of a husk if it has no seed.

An Image

2011-08-01T23:01:00.003Z

In these houses, surrounded by photographs of happy times, I have learned to regret the fact that the only memories we will have forged will mix into the salt of our tears, and as we wipe them away to hide our shame, we will forget why we fell, and stayed, in love for so long, for so much.

Clockwork

2011-07-27T21:18:00.003Z

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

2011-07-24T03:12:00.002Z

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

2011-07-24T02:47:00.001Z

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

2011-07-19T22:05:00.002Z

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

2011-07-17T23:14:00.001Z

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

Segue/Fugue

2011-07-14T19:54:00.002Z

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

2011-07-12T23:34:00.001Z

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

2011-07-09T22:40:00.004Z

"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

2011-07-07T00:07:00.002Z

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

2011-07-06T20:43:00.003Z

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

2011-07-05T20:33:00.004Z

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.

2011-07-04T22:20:00.004Z

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

2011-07-04T22:13:00.001Z

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

2011-07-03T23:04:00.000Z

Why

when it rains

does it always pour?

Open

2011-07-01T17:27:00.001Z

There's an empty space inside my heart

where the weeds take root.

For Never After

2011-06-30T19:19:00.002Z

They settled down to live inside the shameless carcass of their vagrant dream.

"This is ours."

"This is mine."

They cried to sleep, and woke up to the torrents of empathy pouring out of each other's arms.

Method Act

2011-06-30T02:42:00.003Z

Now will you take your seats
And be quiet please
I need all eyes on me
As I try to explain

This is my final act
So I'll need your full attention
And for my final trick
I'll make everyone who loves me disappear

But I won't know how to bring them back...

2011-06-27T19:29:00.002Z

So well you've played me for a fool,

But, uh, I'm okay with that.

It's an honour sharing this dance with you

And we were by far my favourite act.

Quiet/We Are An Obstacle

2011-06-26T21:29:00.003Z

Let's float into the sky

Change into contrail vapours

Kiss the heavens goodnight

And fade into a blazing sunrise.

With Ash Raining Down On Our Sleepy Sleepy Town

2011-06-12T12:23:00.002Z

Quiet nights remind us of how we once said it didn't matter if we didn't get the freedoms we were owed, for we had found each other, and we were people worth keeping for the rest of our lives.

Quiet nights make us wonder where we are now, and where the people worth keeping have been lost on the road that led us here, and whether we will find them again, and what it will take.

-

2011-06-02T11:14:00.004Z

Please, just let me stay a while

And wrap me in your scented heats

Trap me gently in your passing ghosts

and call your victories my defeats.

Take his name when you touch my face

Leave me lying in his place

Say "darling, you were always mine.

All you needed was a little time."

Give me one night of secret love

And tear my skin when I feel most vain

Let this yearning turn to dust

If it isn't the right kind of pain.

Then I guess I'll live with my mistakes

And we'll both sleep in this bed I've made

And when the time has passed, I'll think of when we fell.

And I'll cry, yes I'll cry. "My Lover, Goodbye.

At least,just once, I could say I knew you well."

The Poor Souls of Pompeii

2011-04-20T00:34:00.002Z

I am going to assume anyone who will read this, or reads this blog in general, has some semblance of an idea of who I am. If they didn't, why would they bother being here?* So here I am, about to do something out of character, at least, keeping in mind the "character" of this little 2x4 allotment of internet I call "mine".

I spent a good few years in London, and while I was there, I felt compelled to do something musical. I've been playing guitar since 8th grade, and it was a passion I wasn't about to let down anytime soon. One day, while I was playing Sudoku on the train, and doing scale exercises (on my arm, no less, because I didn't have my guitar with me), I got approached by a man, asking if I would like to join a band. As out of the blue as this was, it gave me courage and conviction to say "yeah, why the fuck not?" A month later, and I joined the as-yet-unnamed Poor Souls of Pompeii for our first rehearsal together. It was the 14th of November, 2007, a day before my 20th birthday. In fact, I didn't get home till midnight, and Andy (the vocalist) dropped me off, so he was the first person I spent my 20th birthday with. This, as one is wont to say, was the start of something great, and beautiful.

Three years (and a bit) on, we have just released our debut full-length album (following 2 five-track EPs released the previous couple of years) and it is now available at iTunes, and will be on Spotify soon. But gone are the days when people buy music, and we're well aware of that. And so we're giving it away for free. All it costs you? 10 seconds of your time to go to facebook and like the band.

And so, I would like to take this opportunity to ask (or tell/request/insist/permit/command/pickyourgoddamnfuckingverbyourself) to kindly click here and go to our facebook page. All you have to do is like the page, and you can download the album for absolutely nada. Zip. Zilch. This is something that I invested blood, sweat, and tears in (the money can go burn itself) and it means so much to me, so it would mean a lot if you listened to it, and shared it with anyone you think would care.

Thank you.

An Even Sadness

2011-03-22T21:33:00.003Z

I returned to what we had called our bed, as we had called it ours with our others too. I remember brushing the cobwebs off our decadent bodies, spinning songs into nails, and writing stories with strands of air. You played with my hair as I blew a short tune into your heart; Do-Mi-So it went. I spoke to you in triads through our nights, but you listened only in pictures and feelings. We should have known that was a sign, but we were blind. We were young. We were content to walk as each other's shadows, hiding in the sun. When contentment turned to insufficiency, we will never know for certain, my dear. But I know, as you know, that when we woke up with our others, we were not surprised. The stars had it read to us as we slept, but without the image and its melody, we did not care to pay attention.

Losing ourselves in each other's eyes was when we lost ourselves to ourselves. Finding ourselves, it turns out, is a frightening trial of faith, a faith neither of us seems to hope to find.

Fake Names

2011-03-09T23:45:00.002Z

She called it lust. I spelled it L I B E R A T I O N. We kissed softly, reminding ourselves of who we belonged to, but remembering that this moment, at least, was ours alone.

We let our clothes tangle on the bed, the floor, and all about us, if only it means that our hearts will fold perfectly when we throb into each other, and share the foul tastes of this world within blinks of the twilight dawn.

When she wakes up, I'll be gone.

At least I have loved her, if only for a night.

At least I'll be able to say, I once lived in spite of who I was, and who I will be forever more.

A Passion Automatic

2011-02-15T07:48:00.002Z

We wake up eating cigarettes and pissing blood,

tying each other's necks with nooses of love

made from the finest hairs off the horse's tail

that failed to scream at a string's embrace.

Asleep, laughing at ourselves

dead sunless visions of spirals

and ghosts making love to the sound

of a liver sobbing in its drink.

All necessary adjustments made

we strap into our private throes

eager eyes to the stars counting: ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one.

Playing the Palace

2011-02-04T10:54:00.001Z

"It's gonna hurt."

"I don't want it to."

And what got made, was broken too.

Kiss Each Other Clean

2011-02-03T02:29:00.003Z

Love, I have discovered, is not a matter of chemistry. It is an exercise in touch, sight and sound; your "lover" undressing, his or her panting breath on your shoulder, the mirror images in each other's irises, falling in love to the sound of a man singing, and falling out of it to the wailing of his guitar.

I was happy just to be with you.

You were happy for me.

These Are The Bright Stars

2011-01-17T03:30:00.009Z

The bombs dropped while we threw our money at the poor, all in the name of prosperity. The searing white heat chose then to stay for ever, for nobody had the will (or the power) to change its mind. We raged and screamed, and demanded to know what we had done wrong.

Silently, we all knew.

He had to make the long walk again. The card was clear; on the corner of Liberty and Defence. The card was crisp and shiny. New. New was rare in this day and age. Invitations, even rarer.

He kept walking into the dust.

As much as I stayed with her, cared for her, felt for her, fell in love with her, she couldn't let go. Her conversations irked me, but they were always too important for her to let go. I nestled into the blind spot in the downward curve of her nape, and stayed with her wherever she went. Until she wanted me to leave. I left, and waited in silent chambers filled with empty shells raining around me.

Raindrops hit the window as I waited.

Not much further now, but starvation was creeping in. In amongst the white swirls of dust, there stood a building of dingy brick red. A quick meal, yes. A quick meal would do perfectly.

The parlour was once thought of as well-lit; now, the heat outside brought a deathly pallor to every hollow. Starving eyes silently reproached his entrance; the locals were territorial about rations. He joined the line at the bar, inching slowly to the matron and her ladle. When his turn came, she sneered at him, slopping half a ration into his bowl. He stood there, bewildered, expecting her to pour some more; she stood there, indignant, waiting for him to move on. It wasn't until the patron standing behind rounded him and got served that he understood. He ate quickly and quietly, and left. This was beneath him. He'd be in the world of new soon.

"Wake up. WAKE UP!"

I awoke, barely breathing.

"You're late for your flight. Hurry."

Good thing I was packed, then. Not that I had any idea how that came to be. The doors slid apart as I left my room, wondering when she would return, how she would feel, and who she would be with. So many empty shells, and no explanations. London would have to wait for answers.

The gentleman put me on the plane first, and proceeded to walk past me straight into the first class cabin. I took a seat in the cabin behind him to hear the pilot announce the flight headed for Marrakesh. I panicked, told them this had to be a mistake, I was meant to fly to New York, they had let me on to the wrong flight.

"Relax, my love. We're stopping in Frankfurt. We'll change planes there. We'll both change there."

She slipped her hand into mine, and smiled her self-assured smile. I knew I loved her then, even as I had known I loved her when she cried for freedom, and I was too cowardly to let go.

I love her. It was a good thing I left her behind.

The onyx façade he took to mean that this was the ultimate defiance of ruin. Everything may have lost its colour in paler shades of grey, but here stood a monument of pure black that colour couldn't force to fade. His parched mind conjured wonders beyond his simpleton imagination, his greed deliriously taking in this perfect monolith, rife with debauchery, indulgence, and life. He followed behind a well dressed couple, and felt dazzled by the black silk curtains, the gold trim on everything, the stark smart ensembles playing drunken lurching music, the people tumbling on the floor, people pushing them so they would roll. It was maniacally wonderful.

There lay an untended tray of fruit. He hadn't seen fruit in good memory, and while he helped himself, he couldn't help but manage a cackle at the irony of not being able to remember fruit, when, clearly, he had remembered that these items were indeed fruit. No matter. He could think of such trivialities later.

The nectar dribbled down his chin and all over his clothes, and he thought this must be the greatest meal of his life, just as someone pulled a trigger and the wall with fragments of skull. A few more rounds were let off into the air, as others began to kick his body down the corridor, rolling with the troupe.

We landed in the valley, just as a stewardess pushed open the door and moved outside. We followed. She went ahead of me, smiling with her heart, telling me it would be okay. A dog leapt and barked and frolicked in the grass. We walked a strange median, to the left of which was lush green vegetation with flowers blooming and warm sunshine in the air, and to the right of which the ground was frozen, freezing, arctic, dead. We saw a castle set in the wall, the path leading up to it. The stewardess was already there, in the company of the playful puppy and a sage old man, leaning heavily on his stick, and saying something inaudible to the lady.

By the time I got there, he was done with the stewardess, and turned to speak with her instead.

"You lived a life of sorrow and confusion, but you are finding bliss and goodness in your heart."

It sounded true, and I wondered how he knew.

"And you; there wasn't any hurt for you growing up, but you've seen it, and it has found you now, and life is always a struggle."

I nodded, silent. I didn't know what to say.

"And so it comes to this. What you really want is a matter of life or death. Gamble your life, and this world might just become how you want it to be. Winning is the only option all of you have."

Comforting Sounds

2010-12-16T03:31:00.002Z

He spoke of a memory immersed in sleep, a touch of comfort the length of her hair flowing over his forearm. She whispered "what are you waiting for?" and he simply pointed out of the window, into the snow.

She woke, gathered her clothes, kissed his restless eyes as he slept, and walked out on life as they knew it.

Tomorrow's sunrise is going to be glorious, she thought. That, and everything that will follow.

He woke up, staring blindly into the night. Unable to breathe, he clawed at her scent, and burst into rivulets when she wandered too far away.

Festival

2010-11-26T08:51:00.003Z

There are times when I drop my shoulders

and feel myself fall as a stream of confetti

without the wondrous sense of ecstasy

I can see in the eyes of your child.

And in times like these, I pray

for a gentle soul to sweep me up

and speak of how I wept,

and see a glint in their own eyes.

For what's the point of confetti

If the warmth of laughter remains

absent from our hollows

without a smile to save?

Nothing

2010-11-19T04:23:00.001Z

There is nothing but

chemistry here

And with that in mind

We have nothing to fear

This applies to

All I hold dear

And with that in mind

All is beautifully clear.

Twilight Sad

2010-11-11T14:22:00.002Z

I walked till I was tired.

Then I turned around

and walked right back

to a locked door

and a step, calling out my name.

The Light Shall Flicker Out

2010-11-05T01:55:00.004Z

These are sounds made of the ectoplasmic iterations of a room from long ago, Of tired boots clearing snow off the edge of the mountain, and leaving behind the woes of a weary life.

"Sit."

"Don't want to. I've been sitting for the last eight hours. I want a rest."

"That's an awfully odd notion. Staying on your feet to take a break." She took a drag.

"When will you quit?"

"I'm in no rush, my love. Anyway, I smoke maybe thrice a day. I'm not dying any time soon." She flicked the ash out the window.

"I don't care if you die or not. That horrid smell doesn't sit well with me. Not in this house." Harsh words, but sensitivity was rotting in hell. He scraped the icicles off his beard.

"I do beg your pardon, Lord of the Manor, but I-"

"Do NOT patronize me, Laura."

She felt the stale air in the room seethe with his raw unbridled temper. How hard was something as simple as an escape? Having the world at your fingertips inadvertently meant your fingertips are the world, so how could you get away? For the life of her, she could not understand why coming here would make a difference but love was complicity, and she was the ball to his chain.

"Fine. Not while we are here. Now, come, so I may kiss you. And I, for one, do not want to stand."

He looked through her with a muted heat, and she shivered in the cold morning light of the mountains.

"Let me light a fire."

They twisted and turned, one way first, then the other. His hot breath soaked her body in sacred sweat, her quiet urging drawing a cloak around his strong shoulders. For just one moment, a single moment that was brilliant, horrifying, ecstatic, resilient, ethereal, their eyes met. The warmth melted her glaciers, and the waves extinguished his flames. Up against the wall, he pushed one last time before they collapsed in a heap. Still tangled in their own limbs, they panted till the embers hid themselves away.

"I want you to kiss me."

Constant Knot

2010-10-01T01:37:00.000Z

The heart is an organ of trepidation and rage.

We fool ourselves to think love and devotion are its devices. It is far more attractive to falsibly love like a beast than to truthfully seethe as a man.

Oh My

2010-09-22T23:27:00.000Z

Sigh

And say

It's

Fine Day.

Light The Lanterns

2010-09-21T21:19:00.002Z

"I hate the way you smoke."

He exhaled, took a drag, and held it in his lungs. He always saw the smoke as water, rising up a column in laminar flow. If he didn't smoke the way he smoked, he didn't see it, and it didn't feel like smoking.

"Yeah, well. You smoke like a girl."

"....I am a girl."

"....So you are."

He blew out a string of smoke, and felt the wind's fingers push at his hair.

"I like your hair."

"Thank you. I thought you would."

"Hmm."

And so they stood there, staring at each other's feet, listening to the lock stream by, as the sunset turned the water a deeper shade of purple with every passing degree.

Arson

2010-09-19T00:02:00.002Z

A thousand silences will not scrub you clean.

Toss your husks on for the roast.

When your house burns down to your ankles,

You will find a pail of water,

and think first of your thirst

and cinders will sink to the ocean floor.

This Perpetual Journey

2010-09-10T01:31:00.004Z

She has a thing for losing things. She also has a thing for jewellery. It follows, of course, that she has a thing for losing jewellery. A nosepin down a drain, or a ring in the sewer, or earrings in the move. Yet she guards heirlooms with her life, holding them deep within the palm of her heart.

She saves them for a stormy night, and a cliff looking over the rocks below. She hopes they will help her find the voices she heard in the autumn, when the nights traded places amongst themselves, and time stretched and turned inside out.

To this day, she looks, but the nosepin, the ring, the earrings, they've all lost shelter in the rains and their mountains in the wind.

Co-Parallel Dimensions

2010-08-23T11:53:00.002Z

I sleep in a city by the water, with inclines up and down, arbitrarily placed amidst the paved pathways winding through narrow streets. Each night, as I sleep, I walk past our little China Town, where the people work hard, and are always helpful, and make sure your groceries get to you on time. People that I know I do not know greet me as they cycle by, shiny red blurs underneath the weight of blacks, greys, greens, khakis. I walk up a narrow staircase to an apartment I know from my time in New York. How I managed to find it in this coastal slumberville, I cannot say, but it feels like home, so I am glad to share the feeling.

She had eyes that made you feel loved, and a heart that made the earth swallow you whole. As he held her tummy to tummy, she still brought to him the smell of the riverbed where they had decided to lose each other to find themselves. He kissed her brow, and settled back on his knees, cradling her cheek to cheek.

"Seven years is a hard stretch of time."

He nodded, still not sure of what he would say. What could he say? That he'd still not found himself? That he was rather better off having found her than looking for himself? He held his peace, and gave it her name every chance he got.

I awake, only to be unsure of where I have found myself. The water has chopped and churned itself into a cityscape, dull lights wading through the grey smog of a winter morning. On my bedside table, there sits a note:

"Thank you for everything. You will always be my favourite, even when we're lost at sea."

So I return to sleep, to search the waters for what we've lost.

A Swansong Debut

2010-07-16T01:55:00.002Z

And what of me?

You can play the audience

as I crumble to my knees

as the weight of this melody

sings to set me free.

The Aah-ness of Things

2010-07-12T03:45:00.002Z

"There's more."

"More?"

"Yes. So much more."

"Show me when I'm dreaming."

She kissed his eyelids, and told him to fall asleep.

It was the most beautiful reverie. I swam through sands and emerged onto the surface, to walk on an ocean's breath. The water was a transparent mirror. I saw dense foliage populated with creatures of immeasurable brilliance, insects crawling with kaleidoscopes flitting from carapace to carapace, an entire colony thrumming as one single organism. Planets spoke to each other, and the satellites danced through astral projections, like children in chase snaking through long halls and corridors. I saw history play itself out in a second, and it let me see everything, that had happened, was happening, would happen. Time had burst at the seams, and my greedy hands grabbed at everything I could take in stride.

I felt a shoulder on my hand, and turned around to face her.

"You like what you see?"

"Darling, this is unbelievable. It throbs in my heart and my head, and it's clawing at my skin, and oh darling, this is such bliss, such euphoria, such..."

"I'm glad you liked it. Sorry."

He woke up, and found himself staring at sheets of white cotton. He pushed himself up, looked around the room, and instantly he knew; there was not a single trace of her.

She might as well have never been.

Aqua Lunae

2010-07-04T22:51:00.001Z

The sun beats down as the breeze flows through narrow gaps in the walls, and the mud beneath our feet and above our heads thrums with the heat coursing through every bead of sweat on our bodies. The spiral staircase turns through the centre, like a spine connecting the skull to the rest of the body.

We wound our way around to the top, and stood, waiting for someone to come, hoping for something to happen.

"It's time to leave. It's time we went looking."

He didn't respond, but she understood he understood.

They walked out of the ocean, with not a drop of water rushing back to the safety of its peers. They reached the shoreline, and looked back over their shoulders at the city they'd just left behind.

"Where will we look for her?" For once, he did not think it odd to ask a complete stranger so leading a question.

"Good question. Let's start right here, where we stand. And we'll wind our way inwards."

He couldn't remember how, but he had keys. Those keys had a car. The car found soon enough, the keys returned to their rightful place, they set off.

"It's beyond me to take charge, so why don't you just direct me?"

"It's your city, your girl. Why should I know where to look for her, and why would I care whether you find her or not?"

"We."

"What?"

"You might be in denial, but it is we who are looking for her."

"..."

"Guess you leave me with no choice."

So he drove for half an hour, until he came to a roundabout he couldn't get off.

Light slid in from between the slits. It seemed to draw itself to my table. And not much else. Inexplicable as it may have been, I couldn't care. The light was soft, unobtrusive, quietly reverent. Just as well. I continued on with my nonsense on corporate structure, and banking procedures, and legal identities and real identities. When did this have to be done by? Hmm. Couldn't remember. Oh well. A good enough time would be good enough, I thought.

The door opened a sliver. Judging by the light creeping in, it was early in the morning. He strode in quietly, shoulders squared, and sat on an empty chair. (Had that chair been there all that time? I would've noticed it...) Straightening out the creases in his navy suit, he traced a line down one of the grey pinstripes. Fingertips touching fingertips, he sat staring at his shoes.

"They're coming soon."

I nodded, not knowing what else to do or say. Banking peculiarities still swam in my head.

"You haven't got much time left."

I nodded again, and mumbled something about taking care of it, soon as I was done with 'this', whenever that would be. He calmly grabbed the skin of his temples, and began to pull. His skin came loose between his thumb and forefinger, and the mask slid off to reveal obsidian eyes set in an expression with no betrayal.

"Listen, I told you I'd take care of it. There are more important things for me to tend to."

"What do you want me to do for now?"

"You're more than capable of doing whatever it is that needs doing, or, in any case, what you'd like to do. So please, don't patronize me with your pleas for advice, please."

His black pupils kept focus on me, his ears more likely screening the scratching of pen on paper than not. He unfastened the clasp, and begin to put his helmet on.

"They'll be here, and we'll have to do something."

"What do you suggest we do, eh?"

He sat there, still in his navy suit with the grey pinstripes, and the brown shoes, now with the face of a frog.

"Timeflies. I'll eat them all."

He rose quietly and left the room, leaving me to the flight of time and the silent doting of the light of dawn.

2010-06-28T09:41:00.002Z

No one could hear their SOS

and no one could ever care less

of two creatures laid to rest.

2010-06-25T21:45:00.001Z

Screaming.

And then...

Silence.

Rhetoric

2010-06-23T00:32:00.002Z

Black hides the blue. A man ruins a woman ruining a man, as we all sit in circles and feed names to secret eyes, in the hope that we see sacred songs in the mirror before we sleep at night.

Post

2010-06-13T00:00:00.001Z

"You should see the way this girl talks."

"What's there to see?"

"It's a spectacle."

"Don't think I need a girl to enjoy a spectacle."

"But these performances are ruthless."

"Stop walking around the fire, will you?"

"It's what she says. It's her words. They're like knives."

"Am I supposed to be intimidated? That's not an entirely unsavoury situation for me."

"But she's unlike anything you've ever thrown yourself into. This isn't some sugar-honey whose skin you can crawl under and then charm your way out of. She means business."

"....Okay."

"Imagine you walk in, and you're a solid block of wood. By the time she's done, you're left carved out, like some abstract piece of modern art."

"Modern art's such bullshit."

"And that's exactly how she'll leave you feeling."

"...Sure. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"Don't take this lightly, man. I'd never kid you about it. She'll make you wish you were in a tank of piranhas, anything just to be away from her."

"I've had enough of this."

"Suit yourself..."

She was something else. Black single-shouldered maxi dress, velvet, worn under short-cropped hair. She sat there, smoking a cigarette in its holder. Classy, like some bombshell. Straight from a 30's film noir. Not in the mood to socialize, he didn't think of anything to say, but took the vacant stool beside her, and waited for the barman's attention. He thought he felt her eyes on him, but put it down to paranoia. Goddamnit, he thought, why has that bullshit warning left me so unnerved? He pushed aside the thought, and asked the waiting barman for a gin and tonic.

"Gin and tonic? What are you, a girl?"

He tipped the waiter and sat staring into his glass.

"Gets a girl's drink, and can't even have it."

Ignore it, he told himself, and took a swig of his gin.

"Just as well. Not like you have balls."

"I want a divorce."

Finally. He was crawling out of the chrysalis. She would save him soon enough.

Debutante

2010-06-05T21:40:00.002Z

She took hold of my arm in the middle of a busy street, only to tell me I didn't have to stop wearing my cologne simply because she had left. I looked this stranger in the eye, and without a glaze of passing recognition, mumbled a thank you. I didn't know what else to say.

Remember those nights?

What nights?

You knowwwww. Stop teasing me.

I know a lot of nights. I don't know which nights you know, and which you don't.

The park. The lake. Late sunrises, Early sunsets. We'd start our fires when the sun left its office, and hide them when it walked back in.

Hmm. We were so young.

We were so young. And we both spoke 5 languages to strangers, but only one in common.

And we'd make friends...

You mean you'd make friends.

Well, it was us by the lake.

Yes. But you did the making, be honest. I just helped with the keeping.

Hmm.

But anyways. We'd join the stars with lines, like dots in a child's playbook. Our shapes always cut each other. You'd see a bear, I'd see a teapot. And we'd pretend the trees spoke to us. And we'd give them names, and

Yes, yes. What about those days?

.....I wish you still loved me.

I do.

Not like that.

Yes. not like that.

Then how?

I don't know.

Tell me when you do.

I didn't know how. So I never told her. She tired of waiting for an answer, and decided to go looking for it.

I know now what that love is like. You've shown me what it's like. I wish you could come back now, so I could tell you.

Swell

2010-05-26T06:12:00.003Z

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

2010-05-23T14:56:00.006Z

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

2010-05-03T21:05:00.002Z

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.

The Third Bar

2010-04-11T23:35:00.002Z

As she scratched, the band fell into the hole in his back.

She left with echoes of freedom reverberating down his spine, and the shirt she'd forgotten to pick for him to wear.

2010-03-30T15:50:00.002Z

I came home, desperate to clutch at your feathers

you left me with a choice: sandpaper, or an icepick.

2010-03-30T01:24:00.003Z

I know we're pretty tired,

and I know we're pretty old,

but you could've said goodbye to me

before you hit the road.

On second thought, it matters not

if you choose to go, or stay.

From where you're standing, I can see

I've lost you either way.

Closest

2010-03-29T03:29:00.004Z

These slings they slung, they've tangled me up,

and I'm strung up, high, and hung;

I'm floating, tied to azure skies,

Peering down from up above.

and I've gone searching for your mirrors

in the tattoos of your name,

in candid nights of silent joy,

in the closets of our sacred shame.

As the moon draws us closer yet,

As the night sky eats the sun,

and the lights come out of hiding,

and our bodies join, as we come as one.

Morning draws us shadows and we fall,

frozen hands cracking on frozen floors,

as our lovers come to take us home,

led astray through alien doors.

Stretching For Something (Out of Reach)

2010-03-28T23:54:00.003Z

"You remember those days?"

I nodded. It was an era ago, maybe seventeen years, but that didn't matter. We had been together that summer, him and I. There were others. They didn't matter.

He hugged the glass with his fingers, kissed the whiskey with his lips, and wept like a child lost.

"Yeah, those were the days."

He might not have heard my words over his hollow, racking shudders, but he didn't need to hear them. Seventeen years, and we had carried on. As if nothing had happened. As if no one suffered for it. Seventeen years, and the silence killed us while we laughed, and danced, and drank, and lied, and cheated, and played as if nothing had happened. Why weren't we afraid of what we had done?

"Enough." He wiped his tears away, and downed another shot of whiskey as he stood up to go. He looked me in the eye, and crumbled through the doorway, as the wind swept him into his car. The horns announced his departure when the tree stood firm in his way. I stood there shivering, in the cold without a friend.

Act Appalled

2010-03-02T06:08:00.002Z

The truth, my darling, is that you never loved me. The truth, my little angel, is that you were too caught up in your own skin to hear the words pouring out of my ears. The truth, my love, is that you wanted the truth for yourself.

And now you have it.

The truth is, my dear, that I do not love you. I never did. I refuse to. The truth is that we will never know the truth in its entirety. The truth, my life my heart, is that we fell out of love the moment we rolled out of bed that first morning we spent together at your house, when your parents were away, and all I knew how to cook was scrambled eggs. The truth, my filthy little sexpot, is that the filth of our mouths only shows shades of the filth that lies content in our hearts. The truth, my raunchy ravishing princess, is that when I move inside you, I feel you move throughout me. The truth, my innocent child, is that I am so lost in you, that I wouldn't be able to see an exit through the webs we've spun ourselves inside each other, even if it were clearly marked with red neon signs, and they gave us little pathlights to let us know we're getting closer, that we're standing at the edge of salvation, and all we need is one. tiny. nigh-insignificant. little. shove.

The truth, my dear, is that the salt of our tears has kept us afloat all this time, and I for one am tired of flailing my arms in this puddle we're so adamant is an ocean.

The truth, goddamnit, is that I hate myself for loving you. The truth is that I cannot stop loving you. And I won't stop loving you. So I might as well leave for a while.

I left your ribbon tied to the front door. You need it more than I.

He decided to stay in his place, and spend the rest of the day skipping stones across the shimmering surface of the empty lake.

Memorial Day

2010-03-02T04:19:00.002Z

She screens the smoke through elegant lashes and tracks the line with her eyes, before tracking it with her nose. She remains still through the rush. There's static on the radio, and the curtains are stained with spilled wine and nicotine. She feels moist, but her face is foam, unfeeling, unfettered. She doesn't know this face, but it licks her ear, and strings attach to hooks buried deep in her navel. Her hand reaches down to grab a hold of life, as his reaches in for warmth. Blood rushes up and rushes down, and she feels bare in between, spread so thin. The tongue is now in her mouth. On her tongue. It is her tongue. It is their tongue. There is no tongue; just empty space, that feels like a tongue. There is no feeling; just an empty tongue-like space. In the dark, her eyes swallow the sound of the sun, and spit joy unto the shadows of yesterday.

She sidles down, still holding on to him. I was born to be a glove, she giggles to herself, and if the glove fits... Well. It could fit a few different dozens, so she'd try them all to find the right one. But that can come later, she thinks to herself. We come now.

Hours pass as he continues to fill her. She watches him disappear, she watches the truth dying in her eyes. She comes, and morning enters her bed, and heavy footsteps ring in the corridor. He stops in the frame, and asks how her night went.

She honestly says she cannot remember, but she doesn't want to forget.

2010-02-24T04:04:00.000Z

He reads his lover some letters

While she sleeps and dreams of never.

Toes in the Sand

2010-02-23T01:58:00.002Z

He felt a warmth when he buried himself up to the neck, water filling his little dugout. She thought him crazy, thought him brilliant, thought him her own. He was such a beacon of pride and joy. He had the answers to all her questions, and wisdom beyond the exuberance of those blue eyes. When he would dig himself out and lay his head in her lap, she would play with the salt-stained hair, as he lay silent, his arms wrapped around her waist. Life had a way of turning idyllic, when the moment called for it.

He remembered a time when she was taller than him. Back then, she'd pick him up on her back as the tide crept in to whisper in their ears, and he'd laugh as the icy fingers of the rolling waves tickled him. When they jumped out and he let go, he would kiss the bruises where he held on too hard, and she'd play with his hair, or distort his face.

Now, she laughed at his youth, and contented to sit on the beach to watch him keep it. Under her watch, he was 7 again, and she was all too happy that it stay that way.

"Sis? Sun's gone down. The chill's drifting in."

"Hmm. Hey, Alf?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He nodded, and kissed her on the temples. As he took their stuff to the car, she watched the last rays of the sun pan out over his shoulders, and felt his warmth stay to ward the chill away.

Clutch

2010-02-21T21:30:00.006Z

Light catches her face, and she starts crying. She wanted many things; love, happiness, contentment, peace, excitement. She wanted, most of all, to be understood. To be recognized for who she was. What she was. In the shadows of London's dusk, she'd refuse to take abuse lying down. And yet, here she was.

So this is what all the fuss is about. Life, at 21, at its zenith. You're looking down over yawning possibilities, and jumping from puddle to puddle, choosing splashes as they erupt. A step in the wrong puddle is nothing to cry over. It's just something you learn from. So there's more puddles to jump in.

Until you jump in quicksand. Escape is no longer an option.

Awash

2010-02-21T17:10:00.003Z

"My, how you've grown."

The fire in her eyes swayed gently, as she took another sip of her sparkling wine. Growing up wasn't a choice she made. It just happened. She didn't think she deserved credit for something she didn't do. She whipped her hair over her shoulder, and continued to stare into the space above her plate.

"I always had faith in you. Even when you were just a silly little girl, I knew you'd come through."

She couldn't decide whether it was sweet of him, or patronizing. She was sure he grew up too, much in the same way she had. His laughter was no longer silly. It was hollow, and leaden. No. He hadn't grown up how she had. He'd grown far more, far too much. For the first time, she found concern swilling amongst the bubbles. She said nothing.

"You know...Some people grow, and some people don't. And before they do, it's always hard to be sure of who will, and how. But you're just...astounding now. Simply being around you makes me feel...Proud? Blessed? Lucky."

She had never seen his tears. And now, as they streamed down, his hands trembled, and his body shivered, and he looked sorrier than she'd thought possible. What a wreck, she thought with shame. What had happened to this marvellous young man, this man who fought for her, who fought her for her own sake. He was so certain, so confident, and so correct, she recalled. She was lost. How do I fix this, she thought wildly as she ran through a thousand ideas in her mind.

"I....I'm sorry. I just...I've....I'm embarrassing you. I'll leave. I'm sorry."

What a fool you are, he scolded himself. There were people there. They were watching. She's going to feel so exposed, so pressured. You FUCKING Idiot. What is this envy? You should be proud. Like you said you were. But no. You wish your life was going that well. You wish you knew yourself half as well. This is pathetic.

She is really something, though. I wonder why I broke. Maybe because...I thought she'd hold me up? No. There's something about her. Some sort of comfort. Yes. That's it. I knew she wouldn't think of me as any worse. She wouldn't judge me. She'd still love me for me, and for and despite all I've done.

That's exactly it.

So he pooled his tears in his hands, and wished them away, as if he knew that was what she would do.

Why do all of you cry at me, she wondered in misery. Do I not have enough to cry for myself? Do I have to be your Atlas, every single one of you? She held in all their complaints and their sadness.

The waiter approached cautiously, and let her know the bill could be settled later. Head in hands, her tears flavoured her dinner, as she wept, for once, for her own miseries.

A Scratch On Our Hearts

2010-02-20T23:36:00.001Z

I lay her gently on her clothes

She will leave me, yes, I know...

Like a thief

2010-02-20T20:45:00.001Z

This is murder with kindness and kisses, my dear.