Sorry for the silence- Notebook Tidbits

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Let me get inside your head,

Let me introduce you to want, to lust,

To the grotesque and the carnival,

To the blood and the hunger and the flesh.

Let me give you the taboo,

The safety in indulgence, in risk;

Here in words everything is sacred,

Everything is true and honest and

You will not be judged.

Let me lead you where you will not go,

But have always wondered,

“What if?”

My mouth is full of snakes.

I would throw myself to the tracks beside but it would take one half of me, and harmonic though my ribs may be I feel that is too harsh a price. With ropes upon the earth I hold my tongue and wait; bright green-yellows and gentle whites guide the eyes and hold them stable herein without and basic… Still they watch, they wait for this chassis to break, crack open and spill the world ultraviolet.

Silence descends. I will find my way back.

They exchanged “I love you” against each other’s lips, catching the words with tongues and pulling them back into their mouths to be inhaled like smoke.

It infuriates me, the way she breaks me open like a lotus, a rose. Every night she stifles my complaints with kisses, and with her touch bids me forget, lost beneath her gaze. Always the same routine; the sex, the paint, sleep and then she is gone in the morning.

A water box in a glass box with a fish in it, I don’t understand what I’m looking at.

I don’t want to go in. I don’t want to go in!

A fish tank is a vivid warning in my dissociated state and crossing from the park outside to the park inside brings me to a one-way vacuum door. How cruel it is to show us freedom, a world outside without the bars, the noise, the nurses, the beds without heads and doors without doorknobs.

“It’s only a follow-up.” He soothes and clutches my agitating hands to his chest, gentle though I know he clenches his teeth because I have scratched him again.

Have I been speaking out loud, how does he know? Will he leave me here- oh god the doors are open and in this tiny room the air is stale and sterile- will he come back when it’s all over? I cling, and breathe, and bite my tongue. He understands.

We have to wait for the door to open again, nurses, beds, and hospital gowns down the walkway behind the walls. My fishtank breaks open with a whoosh and he leads me forward, gently smiling, a shine in his eye, reassurances that are yet to fade.

I glance back and the door slips closed, nary a fish within the box now that it is within the bowl.

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