Nyx Girl

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Against my will, I bend like a flower to her light. She pulls me in, and although I resist, the taste of this whiskey makes her smile all the more real. I’m growing old distastefully. Said I wouldn’t; said I’d be more sensible, but where’s the fun in that? I passed the point of no return long ago. Part of the attraction that writing brings is not having to adhere to the rules that others follow with such feverish tedium. They settle for whatever, get a decent job and then, ta da! They’re living the dream. Only they’re not- they’ve settled for the easy way out. A life consisting of comfort- the comfort of money, murky sex at the weekends, and photographs with friends to prove the fire still burns. Only the fire doesn’t burn- it’s been gone for years, although a showing of teeth and enhanced passion is enough to fool anyone. Push those tits together; grab those balls and give us your best look of strength and power. Only there’s no power. If you disappeared tomorrow, the world would still turn, and no one would care. An artist is so terrified of dying that he will do all he can to prevent his non-existence. He will create to ensure that when he’s gone, a trace of himself remains. He tries to change the world even when it seems so hopeless. Her smile is a work of art, one that cuts through my defenses. It’s in her innocence; in the way she seeks my approval with every glance. She’s not an artist, and that’s why part of me hates her- because she’s in possession of something so potent with such little effort. That smile; how it sways from second to second. How it gives me nothing but honesty- and that’s what I want. An honest smile. It’s like a knife to the guts, because, above everything, it makes me feel alive. Let her gaze tear down my defences; let it reduce me even though I know I’ll end up a mess. She doesn’t know it yet, but when she does, I’ll let her know how beautiful she is in words that have no form. I’ll take her to the brink and show her what it means to be human. I want to come undone in an act of wonder; in an act that lasts forever. Never let this madness leave me; never allow me to want anything less.

13 replies »

  1. Whoever she is – that inspires this writing, I would love to thank her. To say what I love about the intensity of emotion in this piece, to identify lines, I would have to copy re-paste it all. Again, I am unsure if I took a breath the whole time I was reading. Beautiful, simply beautiful.

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