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distress
one insane moment almost real, a quick foretaste of something not quite easy to bring into existence perhaps, in that moment a god deigned to dip a dainty little finger and plucked at the convoluted strings that make up the defiant pattern my soul chooses to weave, caught in a tug of war between itself and the universe for one insane moment a single pure note trembled in the air, almost aware of its being before it expelled its only breath and was dead lodged within a god's broken nail it was a full moon that night and the god was quite mad
maybe i will start looking for answers when you stop being kind when you start taking away the dreams see how you have scraped me raw and hollow aborted of a dying Thing that almost passed for love its mortal father never even knew a careful nonchalant flick of your hand and Stories crumble back to dream-sand you were always so aware of your powers i retch and i gag and there is nothing more that i could possibly throw up to cleanse myself of this sin, perhaps Death will give me peace yet if you would not indulge me, how much more likely would Death? she always loved you most i guess we all loved you most ah, let this lament pass, it is but another insignificant dream-shift a minor annoyance, like dust in your eyes but you never cry
i sensed the agitation in his hands when things he loved started to drift away he tried to contain them in distress he clenched his empty fists watching them stray wander leave i stayed by his side watching him as long as i could before he himself stands up and goes away i kept my hands to myself
you define me by the expanse of the night-sky and the number of stars shooting and dying across it you define me with the scent of grass freshly crushed upon a newly-dug grave of one who died in grief you define me with the way you pluck out verses from almost-healed wounds, snapping the flimsy threads of the rational used to sew it together. yet thankfully, you know when to leave alone those that gape raw and seep with tears you define me and make me define myself in all the possible shades of black and white and in-between
today i am dark slash gaping wound yesterday i was pulsing blood that trailed across the floor tomorrow i will be a beautiful scar touch me tomorrow please i won’t hurt
you were mine in a former life, or maybe i was yours. whichever it was, i know that i had stepped beyond your kingdom’s door; or maybe it was my kingdom, and it was you who sought me out; maybe it was you who loved me first, and it was i who was in doubt. perhaps this life, our paths are not meant to merge, but only to pass each other by. we likely agreed on it, but i can’t remember, and i do wonder why. all i know is that once i was yours, or maybe you were mine. whichever it was, i love you still. be free, my dear, i will be fine.
i like to believe your kindness is a love somehow because it received my frail offerings with gentle hands and your silence has been a lullaby that hushed my heart to sleep even my dreams of you are kind and silent i only wish you had kissed me goodnight my dream-king
let god stand between us for a while let us believe in him make him exist, feed him with our fragile faiths let him be god of the spaces in between god of the attempts to connect the threads we hold out to one another, god who rests upon the frayed bonds between souls let him bless the space between us bless what we have managed to weave, make it sacred and true make it enough for me as it is for you
i would be terrified in your world my tongue would shrink like my thoughts like motes in a dark, infinite space
i will not compromise, will not settle for mere pieces of you like distorted reflections in muddy pools inhabited by other nameless creatures. i want all your wholenesses to be quite content and quite happy. and maybe that will be my only compromise, that i take in all your shadows as well, and all the pains you will cause upon my greedy soul.
dreams gone ugly, clothed in tattered half-wishes and shriveled hope, skittering in the dark staring unrepentantly at the moon, calling it mother, sister, goddess in hollow voices that echoed long-dead prayers the dreams stretch their bones sometimes, cracking their knuckles on my stubborn heart
i told my love: grow be not a child that clings and throws tantrums. go, and come back only when you can sit still and be quiet and act like an adult love returned to me it brought you it sat still and quiet before me, an adult i ached, i hurt because of its beautiful gift and patiently, kindly, with utmost grace it told me: be not a child that clings and throws tantrums let go, and learn to sit still and quiet and wait... maybe he will come back
read more of the dream-king collection...
desire i |
distress ii |
destruction iii |
death iv |
deliverance v |
Acknowledgements