Night Terror IV

It was in a bed that was neither mine nor not. In a hotel room, indifferently bland but functional, with my stuff sprawled randomly in order, resilient to the efforts to be disdained. It looked like a good regrettable fuck, messy but attractive enough to be made yet not important enough to be cared for. Something I would want neither mine nor not. Something to be purposefully forgotten, its memory to be exchanged for a better one.

It was after a day of battling demons. Coming back to real life from a very different, very attractive, very forbidden, very primal time, I hated the kid sitting across from me for 6 hours. The brat was practically laughing out loud while watching whatever funny on his mom’s tablet with earphones on. How dare he laugh so innocently, so recklessly in that weird high pitch. Not to mention he kept on bumping my knees with his ridiculous sneakers as he swayed his feet in unbridled glee. Kids… And their awesome moms who don’t even try to correct them. Put the mask of civility on, smile lightly, listen to your music. Smiles back, sheepishly, in a way that reads and reflects the same mask, in its core an indifference unwilling to acknowledge the broken rules of civility. Thank God she had a ring on.

Things that mattered to me were battling their demons. Most of all that I love, stuck in another land waiting, no, willing to be raped and despoiled, were at the risk of being casual casualties of ignorance, submission, subservience, and unbelievably incomprehensible willingness to accept as is given. Fed. Like a poisoned apple you know will date rape you…

It is warm in the room.

Practically with nothing on me except a rather thick comforter unfitting to the season, I’m battling my demons too.

Choices, choices, choices.

The sights, the sounds, the laughter, the words, the dancing of the lights in a purple blue haze, the floor that gives way, the shining smiles, the quiet dances, the booming beats of the heart… The only choice is to put on a mask of civility, and force myself to sleep. Shut off the thoughts, silence the brain, still the heart. Pray. Sleep or what goes for it right then drifts me into it, with it, making me fall through it.

It’s a still dark, it’s an unnerving quiet.

Something is coming.

I am afraid. It’s a raw fear, it’s always the same fear, each time stranger than the last, but always the same. I know what it is, but I’m not able to brace myself against it. It envelops me in its coils, the dark tendrils tighten around my chest.

Something has come.

I see myself, like a horrified spectator, trying to move. I try to shake myself out. It’s always the same yet ever different. Stronger and wanting to fight. I push, and it pushes back. It fails my breath, I try to lift my hand, it sits like a sinful guilt on my hand. I snarl, whimper, but never cry.

Something is chasing me across the room that is neither mine nor not.

It’s a black hand. Starkly strong against the grayed walls of the room. Some sickly yellow random Earth street light shines into it, casting a fog over the black hand that wants to tear my head off. I thrash at it, punch it, swat it away. I feel my fist go through what feels like mud, and it recoils and hisses, opens itself wide. The five headed serpent opens a mouth of a thousand fangs scream my name; a threat unto my soul is issued by the dark, and my demons accept the challenge.

Something will pay.

I open the cage to the beast. It devours the black hand, takes a big bite of the dark, chews on it. I can hear the rattle of bones, I can feel them grinding, feel them sharp and biting still.

Something changes.

A sword of shining obsidian bites into my heart. It judges, makes me feel worthy of its pain. The beast whimpers and goes into hiding. Lick its wounds, feast on the guilt, become stronger through the pain. I cannot move now. A yellow fog dissipates its sad glow on me; I can see that. I am here.

Something won’t make it.

I am the only truth now. I will my eyes to open wider. I no longer see myself as an open wound from afar, watching helplessly. I am in control. If I fail, it will be on me. The weight is on me, it is in me, it is above me. It cannot take me. I lift my hand, I open my mouth as if to take a bite, I snarl.

Something is lost.

I’m in feet before I know it. I’m staring at the sickly yellow light of a street in a town where choices, choices, choices took me to. The only remnants of the thing that should not be in a room that is neither mine nor not are discarded to the side as a taken off tshirt, damp around the neck like a garrotte.

I look at the bed that is neither mine nor not. I go back to battling my demons. Choices, choices, choices. The sights, the sounds, the laughter, the words, the dancing of the lights in a purple blue haze, the floor that gives way, the shining smiles, the quiet dances, booming beats of the heart… I let sleep take me this time. It’s not a fall, rather a dive, heart beating slow, ready to fade out into a blissful dark of nakedness.

Finally.

The Bright

You are the Lord of the Other Side
Of the ever-burning fire
Of the imprisoned inspiration
Of the bloody rebellion
Of the eternal damnation.

You will be loved
You will be adored
You will be praised
You will be bright
You will be hated
You will be hunted
You will be damned.

You will be worshipped.
You will become the Dark.

You are the Keeper of Secrets
The honesty in every lie
The lie in every good deed.

You are the Mirror of Truth
The love of every lust
The lust in every love.

You are the Master of the Winter Tide
Of the ever-burying snow
Of the infinite Prison
Of every committed crime
Of every suicide

You will be needed
You will be envied
You will be called
You will be bright
You will be accused
You will be searched
You will be reviled.

You will become lost.

You will be worshipped.
You will become the Dark.

Helpless – Powerless

Ambitions to conquer the world, to secure the future may not help. Desire to be happy, the need to work to live, to live to work may not fulfill.

What is an ambition, a future, without the ability to help the present? The need to help the one who is most loved, most wanted, most cherished, most dreamed of?

A good word here, a beautiful look there, a bunch of words here, a call of peace from the chilly spring moon to take away the anxiety, to brush away the fear. I have my peace, do I give it? Do I take away the fear? Can I, may I?

Will you allow me?

Sentences without verbs, not one but two languages unknown, not one but two languages shared… One we know, one we find day by day, moment by moment, kiss by kiss, eye to eye, I to you. 

Your depth, so unfathomable, an ocean, elegant, graceful, warm, calling me back to the water, beckoning me to touch the deepest parts.

Will you allow me?

Sentences without verbs, radiating peace, radiating beauty, radiating elegance. Let me drink into the waters of your life, let me add mine into your ocean, let me drown in your embrace, in your peace, but let me, allow me…

I will take away the thunder, the fear, the wind, the shrill cry of anxiety.

I am not powerless, you are not helpless, let me, allow me, to reflect the peace, allow me to drown you in me, to make you forget the wind; let me shelter you in my safest place, in my arms, next to my heart, above my soul.

I will anchor you against the wind, let me, allow me take away the mundane worry, the deep anxiety.

I will stare back at the darkness. I will bare my fist at it while you are safe, but just let me, allow me. Let me, allow me, to fight the streams that pollute our ocean, clouds that roll over our peace. Let me, allow me. I am not powerless, you are not helpless, we are stronger with each other, within our hearts, our souls, but just let me, allow me. Find peace, love, warmth, longing, tranquility, desire, strength, a future, our future, in me, with me, through us. 

Just let me, allow me, fully.

There is my future to conquer, my ambition to secure. You, only you, the heart knows it was only you, it could only be you. You let me, you allowed me, I dared dream of you and me; now let me, allow me, take away the worry.

The shelter in my sentences without verbs. Speak our new language, discover it with me, piece by piece, look by look, moment by moment. There is your peace I lay freely at your feet, there is my strength I place .

Fill me with your ocean; I will fight the streams, they are nothing against me, when I know you are to be with me.

Just let me, allow me.

God Rays

There is a tomorrow.

It’s dark no longer.
There are clouds,
There is wind.
No longer a storm,
Not yet the sun.

It’s cold no longer.
There is dew,
There is wind.
No longer a blizzard,
Not yet the sun.

It’s broken no longer.
There is a heart,
There is a kiss.
No longer a tornado,
Not yet the sun.

It’s lonely no longer.
There is a universe,
There is a deep call.
No longer a sadness,
Not yet the sun.

Dreams told me it will come.

The clouds have parted.
There are walls torn down,
There are scattered ruins.

No longer a few naked trees,
Not only our city,
Our country,
Our island,
My ocean,
My land,
My kingdom warm.

My heart no longer forlorn.

Above us,
Our setting moon,
Slowly, beautifully,
Ahead of us,
Our rising sun,
Dawning with golden rays,
Ready to pierce the horizon.

Wash our kingdom,
Our country, our island,
You – my ocean, my land,
My kingdom, my art,
My sun, my kind heart,
Wash my kingdom in warmth,
Drown my ocean in our heart.

There is more than a tomorrow.

Dance with me.
You and I,
We will rule
Together.

Hands

Let me guide you where it’s silent
Through the night and day
The crowds can wait till
We have no sighs left

Let me guide you where it’s silent
Only our heartbeats to play
Through the music of our souls
Life can pause and wait

Let me guide you where it’s silent
Only our hands to hold
Through the thunder and rain
Tears can pause unto smiles

Let me guide you where it’s loud
Only your voice and mine
Through our bodies and souls,

Time can freeze and wait

For us to be done.

Scream of Our Kind

In a storm of souls
Two hearts, entwined,
In separate roots,
In dancing branches,
Our embrace,
Surrounded by a maelstorm.

Demons rage in there
Angels cry out there

You and I,
In all our glory,
My demon, and your angel,
On a path of Thorns,
Walk – stop – run – back – forth,
In and out of the storm.

Demons rage in there
Angels cry out there

Let me hold your hand.
Stay. With me.
Have faith in fate.
Predestined,
Look, not at the storm,
Not at the tears,
Not at the blood,
Look. At me.

Demons rage in there
Angels cry out there

Let the souls rage.
Let the demons fight.
Let the storm pass,
As you envelop me
In your shining light.

You and I,
In all our glory,
Me, your creation,
Holding my face,
In ever loving hands,
On a path of Thorns,
Walk,
With me,
Through us,
Into the serenity,
Always
Surrounded by thorns,
But past the storm.

Demons beware,
Of my darkness
Tamed by you.
Angels above,
Always bless you,
Watching.
Knowing.

It will be –
You and I,
In all our glory,
Ever
Be.

Elegy Zero

( Had a bloody knife in my hand
Saw my heart stare back
As the stabber from the mirror.
Deceived by luck-kissed fate,
Happiness wears a mask that stabs us all. )

Touch not,
Look into,
Dream a lot,
Hopes cold,
Reach out,
Forbidden, yet
Ever wanted,
It is only
Right.
Forever.

With dimming stars above, I can only
Count how many suns will shine on me,
Count how many times the rain will pour on me;

The sin of my sleepless nights, tell me,
Are these the dreams that will bring you to me?
Are these the nights where I will forget?

The violence in all my silent sighs,
The caress of all my unspoken desires.
Will I ever be reborn in your arms,
In your words, in your heart, in your eyes?

All the tears of my silent screams,
They flood up to my unhinged mind,
Drowned my soul with our forbidden dreams.

Will a single moment ever freeze time,
Within the embrace of our longing,
The dreams of my restless nights, tell me,
Will a single kiss ever set us free?

Through you, for me,
Endlessly, it is nothing but
Fire at the end with me.

And my heart can only count
How many suns rose on me,
How many rains cried with me.

SLAVE

We are slaves to the shadows of words unspoken.

Slaves to the call of the darker half.

Slaves to the ends of the words spoken, promises unkept, lies told and retold.

We are all slaves to the artifices of our minds, to the whims of our hearts, to the call of our lusts.

We are all slaves for the sake of a false sense security, a falser sense of loyalty, an endless cycle of preservation. A slave of the duality, of the defining battle where two halves of a soul clash, aware of each other, spiteful of one and other, unable to find the better half – all seeking the same sense, false sense of security in the numbing arms of familiarity’s comfort.

Duality is personal. “We” do not matter for the duality of “my” soul, at least not for the darker half.

I am a slave to the limits of my own creation, of life’s imposition, and of my heart’s whim. I am a feral beast in man’s shape, a snake of the honeyed tongue, a berserker in the civilized suit, I am a wolf in sheep’s clothing, I am fury dammed by the world. I dream of setting it on fire, I want to watch it all burn down, I want to see the rivers of blood I spilled, by my hand, by my whim. Yet I am content in my comfort, compassionate in my smile, a gentleman in my word, honest in my heart, wanting more for the world. I want to watch it all grow into happiness, delight, and peace.

I am a slave to myself, never understanding who the master is, always clashing, an iron fist in a velvet glove, a frail child in an iron beast.

My kind

Today is Christmas.

Some of my kind are with loved ones; some are with just random, passably nice, acquainted people.

We wish one another good things. We smile. We cheer.

Some reminisce. Some try to forget. Some are empty, and look about to fill their cup – and some are too full, and seek to empty.

Surrounded by distraction (and what better distraction than the happy kind), the realization is far from us.

Some are alone. Lost in thought, stuck in a place where there are no outcomes, not past, no future. Just the beating heart of the present, the mingling of the light and the dark, the silence of the soul, the acceptance of the realization.

Some of my kind made lenses to peer into what we think is an eye of a microbe. Some of my kind have been able to think about the cells on that microbe, and were able to see it… The myriad millions of their kinds, living, beyond our meek notice, in a vast cosmos of their own.

Infinitesimal.

Others peered beyond the night sky, showing our little piece of real estate compared to the vastness around it. Surrounding us. Like a grain of sand crowded by other grains – surrounded by the endless sea.

Infinitesimal.

Some of my kind showed us million of light years ahead and ago. They said that if you don’t know how to look, it is only a dark, endless void, ceaseless black.

We are infinitesimal.

Such a nothing in a sea of everything.

Yet we still wish one another good things, we cheer, we smile. Some thoughts are ephemeral, some are sincere, some are forced, some are called for. Few are poisonous; most, insignificant.

The realization is often far from us, surrounded by passably nice distraction.

The heart beats on.

Some of my kind can touch a guitar’s strings, and bloom something in others. Some of kind can put five words on a paper, and spark a thought, a realization, in others.

Some of kind can be slightly petty;others, thoroughly ruthless, and cruel. Most of my kind, walking listlessly through life, come to an infinitesimal nothing.

The heart beats on.

Some of my kind can throw you a smile, and bloom a moment, infinitely small, infinitely meaningful, in you.

The heart beats on with the acceptance of the realization that it must. We might as well fill the cosmos within.