Mourning Monsters

And I might be beautiful if it weren’t for all these scars. This rot ridden soul. Putrid and hateful.
No matter how deep the razor goes it just can’t reach what’s wrong. Because it’s everything. Every breath, beat, lash, cell. Every day, hour, moment. Curling out, up, in.

The only way to get out is to break out for good. Break down. Decay. Big bright red Cheshire grin. Sloppy jagged hunks of flesh sickeningly remindful of teeth gushing crimson vomit. And it’s all tumbling out now.
Worthless
Wasteful
Wicked
Wrong
Wrong
Wrong
And if you ever did anything right they might love you.
If you cease. Cease to be. Think.

And if you could, please, just be a little less you. However, it really doesn’t seem to be worth my time, so why don’t you just continue on.

While you’re busy championing Jonathan Harker, I’m mourning Dracula.
And who is there to hold me while I lose control?
Who is there to ease the pain of loss?
Who is there to ease the heartache?
Who is there to tell me the sun will set and night will return once more?


Maybe they would be,
If you weren’t a Monster.

But then who would you be?

A Burning Brilliant Star

I saw you. In that moment I was a burning brilliant star. Something shining and new and beautiful. Something worthwhile. I blazed across the sky, a fierce stellate shooting across the heavens to show how dim the stars burned in stasis.

Symphonies ruptured the silence of a stillborn heart and life poured out and covered the soul. Life expressed its vitality in that ailing string. Resounding, overwhelming, cascading and invasive. Everything was right. Everything was sure. Conducive. An affirmation of a myriad of portents, omens and signs; fiercely drowning cataract.

First breath. First sight. Everything renewed, restored. Vigor. Palatable, sensual.


And you turned only to vanish. An aberration, illusion. Some vicious oasis in this desert wasteland. Destruction as beautiful as the creation.

If love is the master, hope is the apprentice.

Inspiration

You make me feel like a sticky pistil
Leaning into her stamen.
You make me feel like Mr. Sunshine himself.
You make me feel like splendor in the grass where we're rolling
Dance with me baby
You make me feel like the Amazon's running between my thighs.

You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love, love
You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love

You make me feel like a candy apple; red and horny
You make me feel like I want to be a dumb blonde
In a centerfold, the girl next door.
And I would open the door and I'd be all wet
With my tits soaking through this tiny little t-shirt that I'm wearing
And you would open the door and tie me up to the bed.

You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love, love
You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love

Lover, I don't know who I am.
Am I Barry White - am I Isis?
Oooo
Lover I'm laced with your unconscious,
I will be your Desdemona

You make me feel, ohhh
You make me feel, woowoo baby
You make me feel, ahhh
You make me feel, oh, oh, ah, ah, oh, oh...

Mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it.
A kiss can be even deadlier if you mean it.

Attraction. That instant when your attention is completely captured by another. Your eyes lock and everything else in the room is still. Muffled.
Think of every war movie you've seen where they have that one seen where the character is shell shocked. You can still see the horror of battle going on; bodies flying, bombs exploding, shrapnel catapulting through the air - chaos incarnate. But there's only that muted shush sound the ocean makes.

The seconds that expand in that instant you look at me could compose and eradicate a thousand universes. My breathing stops. My pulse races. Every muscle in my body tenses. Adrenaline burns a mainline, cranking the beat of my heart to a slamfest-escape-attempt in my chest. My jaw locks. My knees give.
Have you ever wondered why I only look at you head on when I'm sitting or leaning against something?

Sometimes I hate it. But I'm always wanting more. Burning with the need for that next look. Coiled like a spring tensing a trigger.
I want to throw caution to the wind, corner you and pounce.

I want to bite you.
Hard.

I want to fight you for dominance in a quest as thoroughly exhilarating as it is exasperating.

I want to explore you like a pioneer on a new world, with teeth as sharp as my intellect.


I want to let it slip how you can
seduce
dominate
overthrow
Me.


Beauty is not applicable to the physical appearance
Only the inspiration caused by another.

Know

I think we both know I was in love with you. And I think you know that I am probably the only one in your life who can actually say that with a ferocious conviction. You were everything at a time in my life when I was slowly shattering.

And then you took the sledgehammer to me.

I can honestly say that I know what it is like to have a life that is not worth living. And I know the pain a person who wants to die feels when they wake up.

Maybe what's worse is that you are a repeat offender. You have waltzed right back in, and it seems you expect things to be like they were. Because that's how it was the time before, and before that, and before that... To be fair the lesson was mine to learn. But I've learned it. And learned it well.

There will be no "like there was before." Not now, not ever. I am a different being now than I was. And if you feel that that is not a good enough excuse - than I don't want you back in my life. I am not beyond second chances - though to be honest and prudent you are way past seconds - but I will allow for a new chance, a fresh start. Now to clear the air.

Regardless of how you saw things or felt things - this is how it was as I perceived, and trust me when I say that Hope can be the cruelest bitch you will ever know.

I loved you. More than I think I should have. But I loved you none-the-less. I loved you more than the stars in the sky at night, more than the moon which makes me cry because it is so beautiful. You brought out the thrill in me I thought only sunsets and full moons could bring. I loved you until I could no longer bear it and gave you part of my soul. Regardless of the beliefs of others, it is in human power to do so. And I did. To ensure you would never feel alone. To protect you beyond the point of myself.

And when you said we would be together forever, I committed. Casting my hopes and dreams asunder, I wrapped myself around you. My dreams were those you had given me. I couldn't wait for us to live together and raise a family together - at a point in my life when I dreaded the thoughts of marriage and children. I committed to them because they were yours. Not even my family or my love of knowledge could withdraw as much out of me.

However, I never seemed to be the only one. You seem to have this talent for it. There is just something about you that makes the rest only whitenoise. Mere static barely distinguishable. There is no end to what others will go through for you.

I want you to know, that if this is the case - if these are your intentions - you can kindly fuck off. I will not stand for it and I refuse to be regarded as The-Girl-With-YOURNAME. Those days are gone and you've burned up all those chances.

Our lives have followed different paths. And if we are meeting again, at a new crossroads in which you are no longer the person you used to be, then I will allow your presence. But if you are expecting things to be like they were then, I will leave you to it here. And I will erase all potential for us to meet again in-so-far as I am capable of. I need you to be human. And if you cannot, than you are not worth the time.

I am not saying that it will be easy, as my humanity allows me to be boldly honest. I still love you, and I am very afraid I always will. But I do not need anyone to help me stand tall.

And I will stumble and break and I know that no matter what, I will be here to save me. Because I was when you left me for dead to live your life the way you wanted. I remembered me when you had forgotten my name. And I rocked myself to sleep at night when I couldn't sleep without you. And I consoled my self when I cried until being sick. And I stitched up the wounds you left, raw and bleeding. And when my body did not have the energy to breathe I forced it through the motions. And when every morning I awoke wracked my body with pain I forced myself to stand.

And I am scarred, and I am ruined, and I am broken.

But I am beautiful.

So here is your cross, and your nails. And you can take back this crown of thorns - for I have no need to martyr myself for you any longer.

So here I stand, Judas. Waiting at this crossroads. It's time you pay for your own sins. If you can recognize your transgressions I will allow you to walk beside me, for whatever time as fate allows.

But know this, should I hear the jingle of silver in your pockets again we will make use of that cross again. And you can have a taste.