The Portals

Justice rips her blindfold off & holds a sword to my throat. Staring, cold blind eyes like mirrors peirce right into my soul. I cannot look at her without guilt. Her blind eyes somehow shame me, although they see nothing. I know why she is here before the words leave her lips. I must surrender my key to the Portals. To fight is useless and problematic. I feel a numb sense of complacency wash over me even as my heart beats with horror in my chest. My own hand shall betray me now- what else can be done but obey? I give her the key. The moment that fucking key is in her hand the earth shakes beneath us and we are suddenly split, separated by a giant chasm. I'm just lucky I didn't fall in it and die. But am I really lucky, to remain in such a hateful world? I am tired of surviving, struggling for life on this godforsaken fucked up planet.

The Portals were my only escape from this madness. Nothing else mattered. Yet i managed to fuck it up.

Enchanted

The taste of his scorpion tongue in her mouth is like acid.
And nothing she could ever do would get her a room in his castle.
A place to call home.
Why would she want to live there in the dark and grime and cobwebs?
But she does. Badly.
She doesn't care about the monsters in his death trap labyrinth who occasionally escape and try to eat her. Or all the dirty rooms he hides.
Trespassing, she creeps through his castle halls when he's away. Collecting cobwebs like cotton candy, past the wall with the word "RUN!" written on it in blood.
Hunting for an unlocked door, maybe a secret entrance.
Searching for clues to uncover the truth. Who is he?

his scorpion tongue answers to nothing and spits only poison.
And yet she remains enchanted.

i don't know you, despite how close as we've become after all this time.



i know you less and less.










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split

i could have your hands and feet
 like a puppet, under my control.
i could own your soul
 like the moon owns the waves.
 i could have you on an operating table
 with your chest cracked open,
 heart inside out.
brains extracted
 and placed on display
 in a mason jar at my desk.
do you feel like escargot,
like a snail robbed of its shell
about to hit the frying pan?

i wonder if your zen is really just a shocked numbness,
an inability to process,
as the earth shakes below us,
 cracking open,
and we are split apart by a giant chasm.

My heart is a minefield with no map.

my rage is a beast kept locked in chains,
yet he always escapes.

we split.
and I can only feel you if I close my eyes.

i couldn't understand
when she told me what she saw
and how she did nothing

because it seemed so selfish
so cold
so wrong

but now i realize
it wasn't a decision for her
it was survival

now i understand survival
what it's like to be vulnerable
what it's like to need
at any cost

and even though it was selfish
cold
and wrong
i understand now.
i do.

it's not ok.
but i get it.

i understand the need to be wary,

but impenetrable? 

how do i prove i am not the enemy? 

i bleed myself open 

as if my sacrifice could be 

a meaningful testament

but no. 

the only meaning you find is in loathing

and your calculation of this giant debt

the world owes you

everything has shifted,

and it's better kept out of your sight.

out of range from your stupid selfish radar

til you learn

what it means

to love. 

boundary lines have all been reset

to include a generous buffer zone.

because i know you'll keep walking 

with your knives out, 

ever-ready and vicious

til you learn

what it means

to feel safe.

it's always going to be the same shit

even when i think it's a New scene

until i learn, yeah I'm learning

that it's not so hard as i thought. 

and i can be stronger. 

the coldness takes over me finally, a virus
eating away at me, eating my warmth,
robbing me

i am
carving a perfect version of my heart

like a block of marble
fromthe outside in

breathing life into stone
a vision buried beneath the surface

hungry cold slow death becomes me
but with weak hands
i envision life anew

thesame dark sirens lure me into the rocks repeatedly, but just bc i fall for it every time doesn't mean I'm stupid. it's the song, and it Will always own me, until i can finally lay this ache in my heart to rest.

too late

I should have held her close and refused to let her wake up alone. I should have listened when she said she felt alone, listened with my heart, and instead of feeding her bullshit words. I should have shown her the truth by just. fucking. holding her. all night. while she cried in pain as her body gave out. She woke up from the most miserable night of her life to find me gone. All her fears and doubts confirmed. God forbid I let her ruin my birthday with the burden of her illness.

It wasn't me. It was a defeated, hallow, cold Desiree I have never, ever known before. 

And I kept running. Even when the world was spinning and suddenly in the wake of her death all things became trivial and every shadow was an omen and a reminder at the same time. Even then, I wouldn't. just. face it. I ran. God forbid I have a sad birthday. God forbid I let her ruin my fucking day, right? 

I don't want to think about it so selfishly. it makes their words true. it makes that sick feeling inside grow. i can't be that person. i can't follow the logic of these heartless tards.

but i just hope things don't always have to be so toxic emotionally. because it doesn't matter how strong i want to be, i don't think i can withstand being drained from the inside out. I'm sacrificing my physical health already. I can't give away my spirit too. It's all I have.

Can I really lose my spirit? I'm worried I will turn cold. I don't want to go cold.

i never knew i needed you til you were gone.
even the wisdom i had didn't stop me from treatin' you bad.
torn up by love and loathing, you ran
and in your broken state
she found you and gave you all the sweetness that you craved.

it ain't right for a man like you to find himself lonely every night.
unlike me, your wife-to-be had enough sense to hold you tight.

I'm just another bitch on your list, but you're one of the few good men on mine.

shudders

It's fucking ridiculous, but somehow the taste of an over-cooked egg on toast makes me miss you. I get sentimental. Then the whole fliparoo thing happens with my heart, and I'm thrown into a miserable fit of love and loathing. I suppose at least this is progress, in a way, for me. I actually felt brave enough this time to let somebody the fuck in for once. Too bad it was you. 

.

Entre los labios y la voz
algo se va muriendo
algo con alas de pajaro
algo de angusta y de olvido

pablo neruda

Meta-Whore

"I'll wait in this place
where the sun never shines
where the shadows run
from themselves."
~Cream







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