Monday, August 26, 2013

Monday, August 19, 2013

death is my answer

She shook me furiously. I looked into her green eyes and saw fear there. I saw her desperation and felt her talons sinking into my flesh.
"did you eat it?" she stared wildly at my face. I was groggy and so I tried to focus on her freckles.
"why don't you go away? You are dead, you shouln'd even be here in my room!" I pushed her away from me and tried to stand. Everything was spinning around me. The masks on the wall shimmered and shook. Even death's jawbone on the head of bed started to writhe like white worms.
"Hey, I am trying to keep you here! What did you eat?" Her red hair fell in her face and she pushed it back with her blackened fingers. The soil beneathe her nails looked like glue, compacted and hard. I felt her dry fingers rasp against my flesh then and I cringed.
"stop touching me!" I tried to stand again and finally grew the ability to stumble back toward the door. She looked at me and tilted her head...or was that me....I felt myself falling again. Before I could a way to stop my descent, I hit the floor hard, whacking my head.
It was all rubble...all of it. The wall had been destroyed sometime while I was in the asylum. I rememberd the loud explosion and realized that everything that I had worked to fortify was crumbled on the forest floor...lost among the brambles of my heart. I saw the moon shining brightly up above and the stars were there too. I felt like I was in some sort of strange heaven where all things must end eventually. I smiled and touched my mouth to see if the smile was real.
There was a black thing against the moon. It grew larger as it grew near. I knew what it was and I simply did not care anymore. I knew the entity as I knew my own soul. I loved him too and I think that I had always loved different times, different places...where he roamed deep within my dark heart.
I turned away from him in fear of what I had done. I heard his bones clack against the crumbled brick and brambles of my heart. I would not turn...I would not yeild. But the hand of death was firm and landed upon the dip in my shoulder. I shivered.

"Please....get up!!!" Her horrid hands pulled at my hair and my skin. I felt anger rising as my body fought with its concrete stillness. I wanted to rise and to slap her. I wanted to put my hand to her rotten mouth sit her down. But, I could not move. I was paralyzed by my own decisions.
"leave....mmme...alonne." I struggled weakly to brush her off but she just kept coming at me.

I ate the apple first because I thought it was fake food. I saw the roast, the chicken, the potatos and so I ate the apple. I wanted death, I loved death...but I was uncommitted and I ate the apple.
His hand was odd there...and it did not move. I did not turn to him because my tears had blazed a trail down my cold face and I did not care to show my weaknesses.
Death came round and took my face in his hands. I knew it was time and there was no more to say....
There is no more to say to anyone....or anything. There is no more reason or exucuse. There is no more love or hatred for anything.
There is no more at all....I have given the reasons for my departure and that is enough.
Anna stopped shaking me and stood there weeping. Her tired little head tilted and fell to the side. Her heart grew cold. AS her little body crumpled to the floor beside mine, I finally felt her heart, soul and mind at peace.
I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

Death's hidden song

I heard it in the distance, or actually, she heard it and she hummed it into my ear. It was a jolly sad thing, sorta. You know how hard it is to tell someone what a song sounds like by typing
the desription....yeah, like that.
It lilted up then hit three high notes then dropped jsut slightly, rising again. I think it was sort of reminescent of an old spiritual song.
And then the clouds of my mind parted and I saw her there. She stood at the sink washing the breakfast dishes. She sang that tune just loud enough for me and my imaginary friend to hear her.
I turned to my friend who really wasn't there and I giggled.
That is when I realized that he was death.
Was it in the woods, at the edge of the yard, that I first saw him? No, I remember now that he was the one who hummed my mother's tune to me before the clouds departed. He was the one who
told me not to look and then I passed out. All I know is that my head hurt when I woke up on the floor.
I remember the day in my grandmother's room, the day that I pushed the rewind button to hear what I had recorded on daddy's old tape recorder. It was the one that me and Cami placed in that
room to record the ghosts. That was the first time that I heard death speak to me. My ears didn't hear his voice but my soul did. It was a tune, a deep and dark roaring song that told me that
I was just a meat train. I didn't understand him then but I do now. Death thinks our flesh is ridiculous. I think that is around the time that I started to wish I was a robot. I hated my
I wondered how hard it would be to cut it all off and become as pristine as Death. Death spoke on that one too. He said, good luck with that.
I sat in my little white jacket and hugged myself. Death had been gone for so long and all I could do was think about the past. The guests were growing impatient in the dining room next door.
I looked down and saw that I was no longer wearing the white hug jacket from before. I looked around myself and saw the was dark. I was wearing my pink funeral attire and out of
the corner of my eye, I could see the curl in my hair. In fact, as I stepped over roots and vines, I saw my auburn curls bounce happily. I was pretty, I was dressed up in nice things and I
smelled nice too. This made me instantly giggle because my happiness is so fleeting that when i catch it, it bursts within my hands. I giggle again and begin to run, jumping over the roots of
the forest floor. Then I twirl and dance maddly, the tune returns to me and I push the air through my lips. It lilts up and then three high notes , two, three...then it drops. I play
at the song for what seems like hours until I reach the outter limits of the forest. I am alone....i am so alone. I think of Death and I want him here with me but I quickly shake the thought
from my mind. My hands are covered in soot and all of a sudden, I am in my jacket again....i am screaming
My spot is at the head of the table. To my right is Anna and she is very unhappy with me. I can tell because the freckles on her nose look darker. Don't ask me why this is so, but its just
something about her that I will never forget. Her sadness and anger makes her spots seem darker. I giggle at the thought and reach over to touch her tiny hand.
To my left is Spirit who sits with her arms crossed. Her wings are crimson red and the fairy dust around her is very irritated, flying around making Anna sneeze.
I see the others, the tools of my desencion, they sit in a tight group at the end of the long table. Their wine is red just like their lips and their eyes. They are not vampires, they are not
the dead. They just are. Closer to Anna and Spirit are the faceless ones who serve no real purpose other than to take notes on the whole ordeal.
"But will they eat with us?" One of the demons at the far end of the table questions out of curiosity. I see her red eyes dart to the faceless things sitting along the length of the table.
The larger male looks up from his wine and smiles. His little centered black mustach twitches right before he reaches up to wipe the red wine from his upper lip. The other red eyed demon
starts to laugh making her straight blonde hair shiver against her pale long face. She squeals in delight. "They are freaks! Why should they feast with us?"
The man with the mustache stands and straightens his suit jacket. As he raises his face to me, I recognize the Furer. He is pale and sick but he does not show his weakness. He stands strong
and turns his face to my left.
Spirit stands and tilts her head. "Meine Furer, Meine leibe..."
A song is upon my ear now...a sad song that mother used to sing. I turn and see his skull pressed against my face and for the first time since childhood, he sings...and it was not the song that mother used to was the song that he used to sing to mother...the train came and it ate her too....

ich bin hier, werde nie verlassen
nicht weinen noch trauern
einen Bissen und dein Schicksal besiegeln
zerstören, was sie schaffen
schlugen sie auf ihre Spiele, meine Liebe
vor seinem viel zu spät
so singt der Wolf, die Knochen der Dunkelheit ...
so singt der faulen faulen Herzen
so singt die Dämonen an Ihrer Tür
jede Nacht, wie es vor
Ich werde zu dir kommen
bis Sie folgen durch
bis du nicht mehr atmen
Ich werde an Ihrer Tür sein
kommen .... diesen Ort verlassen

Anna stood over me in my room. Her dress was dirty and her face was pale.
"shhh, it will be okay. It's almost over."

Sunday, August 11, 2013

For the love of Death

Outside my window, there was nothing. I heard him knock again feeling my soul from the outside. He felt it, cold as it was, he ran his hand across my very being. His hard and unforgiving bones were beating upon my heart box…and I could not see him. The darkness covered us with wild intentions, my breath caught in my chest and everything was quiet a moment.

You there with the drowning visage, you there with the darkened hood…I see you wanting in but I cannot see you at all. I see with eyes that are not eyes, but I see you none the less. I open the door and death stands tall and proud. Only his jawbone with missing teeth can be seen beneath his favored disguise. Shadows cover his deep set sockets; he towers above me. I cannot help myself when I grab his other hand to stop his thump thumping of that scythe against the concrete porch. The wooden walking stick thing makes a hollow noise and it drives me to frustration. He pushes one finger against his teeth and makes a hissing noise. With this, I know to be quiet and let him come in.

Impatient death….oh with death and a personality, I am dumbfounded. I sit sitting on the edge of the couch and thrumb my fingers on my knee.

“I am hungry.” I speak frankly as the auburn lock falls into my eyes hiding my soul lights.

But there is nothing but a tall standing hellish demon in a cloak which does not make any intention of speaking, moving or giving a clue as to what he wants. I think death has lost all ability to be satisfied. Why, wouldn’t that make sense? Death is never satisfied and that is why he reaps.

“You are never ever happy are you, Death? In fact, you have no idea what that means at all. I do not see you skipping through the fields in laughter. I do not see you singing glad songs of good cheer. OH, death, why do you still come to me when you deem me mad?  I am mad, aren't I? I am fucking insane. What do you make fun with me when there are so many who hide their madness much better than I?"

Death did something odd again, as death has been want to do in the past month. He went to his knees as a hurting thing and pushed his skull into my face. I never get to the point where this doesn’t scare me and of course, I draw back. His boney arms and hands on my knees drive homeward with their wanting and I think for a moment that death has other desires than to transport the living to their destinations beyond the grave. I think death is an animal that feasts on what we try miserably to hide, but fail to in the end. He put his cold cold boney face on my knees and does not move. I am horrified.

“Please, you should not do that, sir. My blood is still warm and you cannot relate.”

My reality  disappeared as with everything else. There round about us and all over, was the wall that was not home. It was solid and smooth and triple fortified with brick after brick after brick. I gasped at the perfection in which I could have never done. This place was not my doing, this prison was not my wall from before. This one was logical and it was true. It seemed to serve the same  purpose as I could still hear the battle from outside of us.

“Death, who did this?”

His face moved up from my flesh, his form moved up from the floor and Death stood as he should again. People surrounded him in a haze of surreal thought. I saw them and they saw me. But they stood still around their master Death. I knew they were from my life, many different acquaintances and friends and monsters and demons. They held hammers and tools of all sorts. The blood dripped from each weapon of my entrapments.

“They did this.”

Death nodded and reached out for me. I took his hand and stood with him. I could only stare up and into this darkened half boney face. His teeth ground together magnificently as a great beast ready to eat his prey. With such gently deathly promise, he pulled me to him and eveloped my body into his black cloak. I did not want to go and did not wish for him to leave me here. It was cold inside the wall, it was cold everywhere in the dead of summer. My heart was cold, my soul was dying and he was wishing upon my last star with me.

I heard the horses hooves as the guests drew neigh. There were voices in the distance, jolly jovial things which rang of stale and molded years gone by. My father’s voice was there too, scolding me not to go into the deep water. My brother was screaming into my ear about how he wanted to kill me. Mother just wept at death’s side as her father was eaten by his cancer.

I heard them walking upon the grass, their giggles and laughter was intoxicating. I buried my face deeper in Death’s essence.

“please…please…don’t let them take me away.”

The jacket was beautiful and pristine white. I hugged myself tightly but fought to get free. The room was small and the walls were soft. I was alone and it was dark. I heard the voices outside my doorway but no one was there. I could not see them but I could see them very well with different eyes. Their bloody hammers  went to work.

I heard a loud explosion sounding from some great distance and a soft sweet lullabye touched my ear.

….and Death was gone.


Thursday, August 8, 2013

Cradled by Death

The moon was our cradle in its luminous noise. I could hear it scream deep within the night...moving into morning. We sat upon the bridge of the face of that lunar body...and we spoke...or
rather I spoke. We sat upon the moon still sitting and I took his skull in my hands.

"These things I do for you...death."

My hands were filled with the sands of time so I lifted my palms toward open space. I sifted the grains of my forgetting and watched them shimmering down to my victims. Then with no time
wasting, I jumped to earth in one small leap and bound. I felt the hot asphalt greet my naked feet. I felt the heat rise up and hug each toe. It was the feelings of being alive that I would
miss the most. It was the way the flesh could feel quite simply with no further thought. I straightened my funeral attire and looked around the neighborhood. Most lights were gone except for
the street light here and there and down past the park. The church steeple loomed above me as did my moon seat from minutes before.

"These things I do for you...death."

The homes were lonely, I felt them cry from broken marriages, broken children and death's touch. I saw the children crying, laughing and the bodies entertwined in lovemaking. I knew and felt
their pains as my own. Each home I touched with my fingers, grazing down the bricks of the outter structure. Some were panneled wood, some were stone. My fingers grew excited by the
difference in the feel of the realness in this place. The house on the end stood beaming with window lights and i knew he waited there for me. I strode quickly so that it would end quickly. I
walked upon the doorstep and knocked upon the wood. His face appeared rugged and strained, he welomed me inside with a horrible smile and so I went to do waht I had set out to do before I
leapt from the moon. I blanked out all visage of reality there. When his hands roved along my body, I did not even gasp. when the ropes grew tight, I did not even weep and when he called me
names, I saw his lips move but nothing fell upon my ear. I did my deed and then left by the back door. My body did not hurt form bruises and welps and lashes. My body did not hurt at all. As
I passed from under the lights that were now twinkling off, I let the cool autumn air embrace me.

"These things I do for you...death."

And then he took my hand, flying high and back above the earth, we flew. I felt his black cloak wrap around my used vessel. I felt the bones of his hand wrap round my face and pull me to his
shining skull. He played at kissing me to make me giggle, and I did. He took the flying hair and pulled it gently down behind my back, tucking it into place. He leapt again and again twirling
his scythe this way and that in a show of amazing agility. I laughed uproariously as he flung me through the air and gently catching me....took to the moon once more. For some reason taht I
could not know, whether it was the lack of gravity so far up, or if it was some of deaths pure magic...but I landed gently upon his ribcage and  took to rest there. I heard a sound upon the
air, a sound of some lost thing that mother used to hum while cooking in the kitchen. I did not look down, for things of earth sourly disappointed me to the brink of madness. I did not look
down because I would have to go back there soon enough, and I wanted to stay here. I felt the boney grasp of death's fist as he pulled the hair from my face. He placed one tip of his hard
forefinger against my brow and rubbed the dream down into my head.

There in the darkened recesses of my soul..."Ich leibe dich"

And there I stood....deep within the brambles of my heart once more. I was bleeding down my thighs and onto my feet. A sudden lurch and i was doubled over in pain. The blood went faster until
a pool had developed at my feet. I went down into the mass and bathed myself in my own innocence. I reached a hand into the pool and brought a finger to my lips. I tasted the crimson nectar
and suddenly knew what death was saying.

"These things I do for you...death."

The wall stood cold and defiant....but I knew he was on the other side, waiting. I could hear a light rapping sound and then the strange sound of war. I put my bloodied face against the
hardest of my fortitude and I listened. I heard the struggle of many soldiers and the crys of many dying....but my blood said to listen...listen. And I stayed to hear the battle until the
battle was done. In the silence, I heard a familiar soul make longing unto mine. I saw the hand of death reach over the top and find a way back inside.

I walked backwards...afraid and unsure of what I was to do.

I woke in death's arms, still craddled on the moon. An odd air passed from between his teeth and tickled my ear. Death made to soothe me with soup of my demons in hell. I was reeling with uncertainties....driving sad notions deep within the already overflowing schedule of the dying process.  I knew it was time to go back to work again. I knew that the motions of life were waiting beyond the firmament of what he gave me.

And so Death lifted me and lay me back into my bed. I woke to the scorching sunlight and an emptiness that will be forever beyond understanding.

A note lay crumbled in my hand and it read.

"The table is set. The guests will be arriving soon."

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

death in my room

He is beautiful, ghostly and haunted, he is...I see death in my room.

Sleep doesn't come easy to me, it doesn't...nein. Tossing and turning sending out the dreams to forever where connection resides. I travel at once, finally finding the depths of that awful place where the wall is cold. There I sit in contemplation. For hours it seemed, but it was only seconds that I sat there until I found the mud and mixed the mortar. It was a strange concoction made from my blood and tears and some thick white goo of forgotten love. I put them back...back into their places and the wall was whole. I was tired then and so I traveled back to where my dreams end.

I woke...suddenly startled by the presence of his nothingness. He was neither here not there but he waited by my window. With a flick of his carpals, he turned on my light.

I never wake to the is bright and hurting my eyes. I at once stood in my nakedness and scowled after the thing that pulled me from the darkness.

He chuckled as if he had any vocal cords at all. He blew me a kiss as if he had any lips and then he floated across the floor in the sound of some rustling horrible thing in the night. I just watched with a strange allure that I coudlnt imagine death as this silly thing before me. He reached into my closet and pulled forth my Betsy Johnson dress. It was a pink floral thing, and I must admit, it fit me perfectly. He thrust the dress into my arms and backed away with the bones of his hand touching his bleached white skull. Death was trying to be funny in his own little way. And so I took the dress because I knew how hard this must be for him.

"Is it time?"

Death did not answer, he stood still standing by the closet door. I looked down at the dress in my hands and then back to him.

"Tis my funeral attire, right sir?" I swallowed the lump in my throat and knew that it was just a matter of time until I should join my friend there. He smiled but it was a smile like when yo u see a dog smile. You dont really see the smile at all, you feel it in your soul and it makes the eyes imagine that the bones slid upward and produced such a menacing thing.

 "And what about the feast?"

Death said nothing more but came forward taking my hand in his. The bones were odd and smooth, neither cold nor warm. He raised my hand and kissed it. I held my breath and watched him as he rose to face me. The dark holes of his eyes were there watching me wonder. But death said nothing because death did not speak. And no, it was not because he had no vocal cords, nor was it because he was ominous; it was because there was never really any need for words.

I took the dress from the hanger and pulled it over my naked body. I turned to show death as he walked toward the window.

"so, how do I look? Will this one do?"

Death reached out and touched my cheek and I knew there was still time. Death turned his cold white boney face upward and made a motion as to sniff the air. Oh, and that was probably the creepiest thing you shall ever see. Like a bone hound stalking its prey, it was. I sniffed the air with him and smelled nothing. I knew then what he meant.

I could not smell the feast and so it was not time. Death would have me wander the night in my funeral attire and horrify the living. I would run from abode to abode taking what I needed for the preparations. Then when I was finished, we would make the feast and toast the trip.

And I would go home last.

...this side of the wall, with pen and pad in the brambles of my dark heart.

Now I lay me down to weep, I pray that death will help me sleep and if I give my blood at least, I hope that death prepares a feast...

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Death beyond the wall

It was a wasteland. I gazed through the rectangular whole at the things of the world which lay beyond. I could no longer see death who had became my savior. The bricks that surrounded the
gaping maw, were cold and laced round with old mortar. It was mortar that had been placed there from before...twice again. This time the material crumbled when I touched its surface.

"sollte ich den Wiederaufbau der Mauer?" She whispered quietly back into me.

Around the open whole, only three bricks away was another...and then another wide gap in my firmament. There were several peices missing to my fortified puzzle. I knew where they were, they
lay in death's pocket. My breathing grew rapid as I searched first one opening then the next.
Only the day before had I seen him, his long black robe brushed the earth with this happenings. He looked right through me as he passed  by my wall. I reached out to touch the hem of his
garment and I felt the loose bricks clunking together within his cloak of black. He felt me grasp him and so he looked down with his deep pit sockets of despair. I swear i saw death smile at
me. His mind touch the edge of my own consiousness then he passed on through the countryside and back into his own existence. I stood with arms thrust through my own openings and wept for his
departure. I sunk and hung loosely from the wall.

"Bitte, lass mich nicht hier ohne Antwort." The thing cried within

It was not long that I stood there waiting for death. I felt the urge to run away into the darkness behind me. I pulled myself free from my entrapment and bolted into the midnight dusk of the
forest of my home. There were rambling and tangling vines that grasped me, pulling me down. I struggled at first finding my footing again over and over. But then it was time to rest and so I
lay down among the brambles of my heart. It was there I found my pen and writing pad. So I wrote a letter to my dear friends. I wished to tell them what I planned to do and yet, I wished to
give them comfort of time that had to decide when I would take my leave.

Dear ones,

shhh, do not worry. Rehearsal time is not yet  been established. Death is gone for now and but I expect him to return. I'm still wild in search of my burial clothes and the table but still
set ... No one has come to dinner. When the time comes, do not fret. Do not think it a long time that when I have left. For this world is an illusion and I long to know the truth. I want to
be with my death, beautiful ...and often rehearsed with every detail having love's pure rejection sharpened...honed to the task of eliminating me. I want each breath before my last to be iced
with sweet torment. And I want you to stand over me and whisper softley ...."Ich werde dich dort treffen".

What is life for? What is the point of all this suffering, this hatred and this endurance that was dissatisfied? Bricks are missing in my wall and the air is unforgiving that I feel sending
shocks through the empty parts of my soul. I just want to sleep because I can not sleep any more among the living. I hunger, I long, and I avoid the light. I hate this horrrible torment
Sometimes love is not enough, hurts my heart. I long to know the end, the whole damn reason I breathe at all. Why feels my flesh, why my heart is breaking and why my eyes will not sleep.

My dear ones, I lay among my defeat and welcome the crumbling peices to cradle me until I feel no more. For I am one with this world, this putrid deep deep forest. I have traveled here time
and time again between my dreams. The nectar of rejection knows its home in my heart. I smile...I smile as the door opens and my black heart comes back in to me...alone. I smile and wrap my
arms around my emptiness and I say...welcome home, my love.

He will come soon, I feel the clouds starring down at me here. My blood fears what he shall do. But death promised to always be a friend to me, you must understand. I cannot stay here
forever, safe within my own trappings. I shall have to face the coming ceremony, the feast and the reaping. I shall see death again, he never really stays away for long.

you true demon

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Companion death

Of course I shouldn't feel excruciating pain but it is there regardless. Strangly, it is still in the corner wearing its black robe. So the trees wave in the background and make that awfully
scary sound; the one that sounds like nails scratching the pavement, like hair brushing from my face...and like the last time we kissed.

As a little girl playing dollies, you were there with me. You taught me how to put them to sleep with my poison. I had bottles of blue, bottles of green...all sorts of bottles I stole from
father's shed. You laughed at me when I watched my dollies die. I put my little hand over my mouth in horror. You were like proud father death then. I was just beginning to know what hell

Then, in another lifetime, you were whispering secrets in my ear by the road side. When I couldn't drive anymore because I was sexually aroused to the point that I was almost using my mind to
stimulate myself. I couldnt stay in my own lane that time and so I pulled to the shoulder of the road to finish. Your voice was strange and heated, filled with a thick creamy foam that I
imagined to be your manhood's tears. You were there during those strange years and you were my little death.

Of course I shouldn't cry for you because it would be a silly thing to do. I hate the way they cling to me but now I cling to you. Your shadow wavers by the door. YOur hand print is growing
cold and dreams of you will surely come in nightmares upon my tight closed lids. I have no more faith for goodness of this world.

My brain is ridden with cobwebs of love's demise. I cannot hope for things that I steal. I cannot beg for things, my pride is hidden beneath the bricks of a crumbling wall
I see the figure by the trail in the moonlight. I think I recognize the bones of the face. I know its you....

but I shall stay within the thorny brambles of my heart...for now.