All posts by sanguinesage

Miserys’ Mistress

You are miserys’ mistress. Even if fortune looked your way and gave you the night of your life, you would still sneak back into miserys’ arms.

You claim you desire joy or one of her friends. You claim you yearn for peace, when in reality you allow drama to engulf you.

You are miserys’ bitch. A sly one at that, a submissive slave who may appear to obey when beckoned when in reality it is you who beckons misery.

Misery likes to think it owns you, you let it think it makes all the decisions and has all the power, that misery has a hold on you… It is misery who is your bitch, your plaything.

You throw yourself into a poisonous codependant relationship with each other. So twisted you both are, it’s hard to tell where either of you begin or end.

Misery and you may have an agreed upon open relationship, one that involves daliances with others such as pain, depression or hunger, but you always find your way back into each other’s beds. God forbid you may sleep apart.

Even if you won the lottery or found your one and true soul mate, misery will always follow, not out of choice but because you’ve chained it at the ankle.

God forbid you’re ever torn apart.

Week 22 – Yearning

There are things I know I’m missing, which can haunt me to no end. I don’t always know what they are nor can I see them clearly at times. I’m thirsty for something, yearning for it – but what? No clue.

What can desire bring me? Will satisfying that itch, that yearning, will it make it all better? Would I be happy then? Will happiness cling to my chest and will peace take board?

I often doubt it. Sometimes when I know what it is I yearn, I know the harm and consequences that may occur. Many have tried to convince me to silence the voices that tell me not to give in to temptation. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I pride myself on saying “no”, but it’s frustrating and can be insulting when someone belittles my intelligence or beliefs. “Sure, I’ve been waiting for you to give me permission all me life.” When will it be okay to say yes?

There are times I yearn for something not so harmful (you know unless some freak accident kills me, or I contract some unknown disease that will later be named after me). Live by the ocean or the sea, camp out under the stars in the middle of nowhere. Trust a stranger and sleep on their couch. Open my heart, even if for a short while and let myself feel… try things that scare me. I yearn to live. I guess that’s the clearest image most times.

However, it’s the smaller things that can get to me at times. The day to days. The things I miss or wish for; the company, the care, the peace, the noise…the love. I find myself thinking about my mother often lately. I would think of those moments I disappointed her, or the moments I did something that hurt her in some way and I would beat myself up for not being a better a daughter. I wasn’t bad, but I still have those bad memories I thought I had forgotten or let go. It’s the love that I miss the most. I guess I beat myself up because I never showed her how much I loved her – that I appreciated her more than I’d showed.

There are moments I feel I’ve lived too long and times when I feel I haven’t lived at all; that the end will find me all too soon. I hope the end doesn’t find me too soon.

Week 21 – Cliché

Sometimes trying to figure things out can be exciting, while at other times it can be frustrating. It just happened to be one of those days – I couldn’t get my brain to work, no matter how much I urged it to.

I stared at the page for what seemed to be hours. I couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it. It just wasn’t coming to me. Where had that thread gone? I was clouded by fog, dense, grey and suffocating fog. I needed a high powered fan to clear it all away.

A lack of clarity can be interesting at times, while more often than we’d like, it is utterly frustrating. Gah, I already thought of that! I needed that light, an Edison light bulb floating above my head. The switch! Where was the switch? It used to be so easy before – the juices were running and it was all flowing.

Once upon a time… nope not that.

A long, long time ago in a land far, far away… nope.

There was once a… a… A what? A boy, a girl, a cow?

It wasn’t working. Not even the clichés were helping. Maybe I could have written about a one legged pirate with an eye-patch and… and… a parrot? No something different, how about a monkey? Lame. I was running out of time. Cliché, cliché, CLI-CHE. Cliché, cliché, CLI-CHE! The conga line music clung to the walls of my brain.

I should have just shut it down. Seemed pointless, why was I even bothering with it all? I clearly didn’t have what it took to keep up. A false talent if I say so myself. I didn’t care anymore, I decided that I’d just spew whatever dregs that still hadn’t found.

I’ve been dry for too long. In order to create, my well needs to be refilled. Where’s that oasis?

Week 19 – When I Wake

Groggy and sluggish I wake daily
Unable to move my head.
My brain recounts the odd and hyperactive dreams,
That keep me unrested.

I can no longer muster the energy to be spry.
I sit on my bed’s edge like I did back when I was a teen,
Staring at the random grains on the varnished floor
Waiting for my brain to begin ticking.

Cogs are rusty and squeak.
My cognitive faculties deteriorating day by day,
The internal departments unable to communicate as they did,
Once upon a time.

I’ve been avoiding that addictive elixir I call coffee, for many years now
Trying desperately not to rely on its magical properties.
I yearn for the boost and clarity it provides me,
But do not miss the occasional gastric wrenching.
Oh, that Aroma.

Sleep seems to be one of my constant desires,
Yet I fight it for I have so much I wish to do.
‘Wasted Time’ I often think, though I know better.
The ‘wasted time’ still wasted on my lack of energy to do what I wish.

I find myself disconnecting during the day
Just staring off into space.
I may be mid conversation and lose my train of thought,
Sometimes losing it completely.

The whirlpool is strong,
Drowning my mind.
Do I keep swimming against the current and hope for the best?
Or should I just let myself get swept away?

Fatigue… is my shadow companion
Depression is his brother.
Darkness follows their trail,
For a mother cannot leave her children alone for too long.

Fight it all I tell myself,
But sometimes one is too empty
Too empty to wake
To think
To care
And too empty to even drink that aromatic roasted elixir.

Week 18 – Tick Tock

Tick tock goes the clock

Tick tock go to sleep

Tick tock goes the clock

Tick tock wake up

Tick tock goes the clock

Tick tock do your work

Tick tock don’t stop

Tick tock do speak sweet

Tick tock or not

Tick tock flies the clock

Tick tock it won’t stop

Tick tock laughs the clock

Tick tock hear it mock

 

Week 16 – Carla loves Frank

‘Carla loves Frank’ was scrawled on the decrepit wall. The neon pink paint still stood out through the generations of dust piled on top. Sierra gripped her SMG wondering how life must have been back then, before the Infestation. She tried to step carefully through the echoing ruins. Although she had trekked through the halls of the train station several times, today felt different. ‘Stay alert’ she kept reminding herself. She had a feeling she might have to actually use her combat training.

‘Carla loves Frank’ – Wait! Did I get turned around? She thought. Drip, drip. The writing looked darker. Drip, drip. Sierra made her way towards the graffiti. Drip, Drip. As she got closer, the colour became clearer thanks to the dregs of light shining through. She reached out and touched the scribbles. ‘Fresh…blood?’

CLICK CLICK CLACK CLICK. CLICK CLICK CLACK CLICK. TUT TUT CLICK TUT. Click…click…tut…

Sierra’s heart fell into a pit and her insides shuddered – screaming at her to turn around, to run.

CLICK CLICK CLACK CLICK. CLICK CLICK CLACK CLICK. TUT TUT CLICK TUT. Click…click…tut…

The sounds repeated. ‘They’re here…’ More joined in, voices rising. CLICK CLICK CLACK TUT TUT CLICK. With tiny steps, still gripping tight her SMG, she turned slowly, hoping to postpone what was to come. The dripping was now drowned out by the chatter. Sierra faced them, a horde of creatures resembling crickets and cockroaches. Antennae that seemed to move of their own accord with exoskeletons slimy and crunchy.

Sierra gulped down the last of her saliva, unable to produce more. The army stood before her. The Festants had arrived. CLICK, CLICK, CLACK, CLICK. They continued. Her heart pounding against her ribcage, attempting to escape. She knew this was probably the end. She thought about those who waited back at the camp unaware. She knew her mission. ‘I might as well go out with a bang,’ she thought. ‘At least now they’ll have a head-start.’

Gun in hand, she wailed her tribe’s war-cry. Her machine gun screamed, raining metal fury on the monsters. She continued fighting even as her magazine finished, and even as the horde overpowered her. She fought as they tore her limb from limb, but as they were just about to take her heart she thought, ‘Fuck you Carla and Frank’.

Week 15 – Sam & Misty

“I want to speak to your manager!” She screeched at me in the hotel foyer while passing guests stared.

“Maam, I’m here in his place. He’s away for the week. How may I help?”

She stared back at me holding her breath, like an infant whose parent had refused to bend to his whim. Her cheeks expanded and her face turned red, ready to burst like an overblown balloon.

“How about we comp your first night and start there?” I said, wishing I had let her suffocate and black out.

“Perfect” Her face returned to normal and she smirked, victorious. My eye twitched but I continued to smiled.

“First, I’d like…” She yammered on for a bitter hour, with each demand more frivolous and conceited as the one before. Her voice ate away at my skin. With each piercing syllable my smile grew larger.

“Got all that?”

“Of course” My smile now took up half my face.

“I’ll be sure this is reflected… positively in my husband’s review.” Her nose high and pointy.

I bit down and grinned, allowing my smile to hide the black hole waiting to consume her deep within my eyes.

“Our establishment is here to serve.” I bowed out and returned to my office.

—–

“Misty!” There sat my best friend in my chair.

“Sammy!” She jumped up and hugged me. We screamed a little before we calmed down to human speech levels.

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you.”

“We’re gonna have some fun tonight!”

—–

Misty and I danced among the tourists with fervour and hunger for the beat. I rode the intoxication, which wasn’t thanks to alcohol but because when Misty and I convened, we made a killer team.

“OW!” A being bumped into me, with a voice that managed to pierce through the heavy beats of the club. It was her. I shot a look to Misty and I turned to find the uptight, arrogant woman living off her husband’s influence.

Misty winked my way. She hooked her arm around the harpy guest and I followed suit. We led her out the backdoor and pushed her against the dumpster.

“This one’s mine” I informed Misty.

Our grins nearly split through our cheeks.

“How dare you?! Don’t you know who-”

“Shut it!” Misty stroked the defiant woman’s chin and grabs it. “You don’t want to lose your voice now do you?” With a final slap, the lady broke down in hysterical sobs.

“Huush, hush now” I pulled out the chopsticks holding up my hair. Misty howled. I chuckled, this all felt so nostalgic.

I twist and lock my sticks together, which allowed me to pull them apart and reveal a pencil blade. I felt my blood heating, my anger dancing around the fire, as Rumpelstiltskin did in the forest. I’m alive again. It had been far too long. I got in close to the trembling wench, I could smell her fear. Exhilarating. I ran the blade down her tear drenched cheek and traced it down to her throat. I could hear her trying to hold her breath as her eyes begged me in silence to end my madness.

“P…please..” She whimpered.

In a single firm motion I stabbed her the doomed lamb in the neck. She grabbed her jugular failing to stop the spurting blood from escaping. I took a few steps back, avoiding the rogue splatters. I watched my latest enemy’s eyes as Misty cheered on in the background. The spirit that once resided there vacated the now empty shell. My blood pumped and adrenaline rushed. The familiar satisfaction rising through from the depths.

“I missed this!” Misty jumped ecstatic. “You have a little on your cheek” She reached over and with a single smooth motion wiped it off and licked the blood.

I grabbed my dear friend’s hand and led her back into the club. This is going to be a great night!

Week 14 – The Deal: Part One

He emerged from the darkness, the dim street light barely illuminating his face. Hair styled and short, the wind couldn’t get it to dance like it did the surrounding shrubbery. His walk was sturdy and open, secure of every step he took. Although his boots were heavy, his step was light. Light struggled to reflect off his brown leather jacket, which weighed down his loose shirt. He smirked my way. It was my first time meeting him, but that smirk, although normally insulting, was comforting. A cat scurried across the road that still shimmered from the rain earlier that day.

“The house on the left” He said.

“Is the house on the right” I replied.

He smiled, completely unphased by what had just occurred. He took out an envelope from his pocket and gave it to me. I took a cursory glance at the bundle of money inside, judging that it looked about right. I nodded my head towards a nearby trash can, that hasn’t been cleaned since it was placed on that road. He walked over with a spring in his step, causing me to move back, unsure of how to read this stranger. He searched around the bin and looked my way, expressing with his hand “where?”. I gesture “underneath” and he gives me an “okay”.  The man lifts the metal bin and throws at an abandoned car, shattering the already battered windscreen. I heard the cries of a few feral creatures hiding in the dark, escaping the sudden intrusion into their urban habitat.

Momentarily distracted, I looked back at the customer, trying to keep a professional poker face. I didn’t want him to see the hoards of cells inside me screaming like people about to be massacred.

“Is it what you wanted?” I asked. Desperate to keep my voice from wavering.

He looked down at the fabric package and removed a crudely wrapped gun.

“Is it a 35 like I asked?”

“It is.” I replied.

His smile got bigger, causing the creases around his eye sockets to further hide his dark eyes. A cat screeched and dropped something heavy, startling me enough to look in its direction. My heart pounded against my ribcage trying to escape my chest, just as frightened as I was by the entire situation. I let out a staggered breath and looked back at the stranger. His smile now from ear to ear, hands out in front, legs spread out shoulder width.  I no longer faced the unhinged customer, but the barrel of the gun I had just delivered. He stood there, pointing it at me.

‘Shit’ I thought, ‘Is it loaded? Or did he load it?’. I could feel my guts telling me to run and my brain screamed MOVE! ‘FUCK! I’m going to die! I’m going to die! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!’

BANG! The sound echoed through the deserted neighbourhood.

 

To be continued…

Week 13 – Blank is the mind…

Blank is the mind that doesn’t expand

Blank is the mind that doesn’t see

Blank is the mind that doesn’t tick

Blank is the mind that doesn’t think.

Cold is the heart that doesn’t cry

Cold is the heart that doesn’t love

Cold the heart that doesn’t mourn

Cold the heart that doesn’t feel.

Poor is the man who doesn’t live

Dead is the man who doesn’t experience

Sad is the man who’s ignorant

Useless is the man who doesn’t have hope.

Week 12 – Sands of White

I dream of a land with sand of white,
with waters blue.

I dream of revitalising breezes,
with air pure and true.

I dream of cool rain amidst the summer heat,
as the playful drops stream down my hair.

I dream of lean sun tanned bodies,
and a whirlwind love affair.

I live in humid heat,
with no desire to move.

I live in suffocating streets,
the sound of cars do not soothe.

I live surrounded by bears and wolves,
all wanting to take a bite.

I live in world where I’m jealous of birds,
especially when they take flight.

Wouldn’t it be nice to find a happy medium,
and find that special place?

Because If I ever do…I will constantly
sport a bright and smiley face!