Release

staircade

 

There’s fried chicken and then a cigarette stood in the doorway of a store that’s been empty for years. Yet again it’s pissing it down, and even though I keep trying to rise above it, failure and the end are in every shadow. The streets are empty as they always are. The parks and fields that surrounded me, they too are without traces of life, for the animals are safely hidden away until morning. In a garage not too far away, unseen homeless people shoot dreamy liquid into their veins, and further along back towards the centre of town, the beautiful ones dance and feel beautiful unconcerned by the world at large. They mock me with how easy it is for them to breathe, and as I pick my teeth and spit out tiny pieces of bone before sucking on my smoke, I wish with all I have to be like them. It’s a moment of weakness. A desperate plea for release. As time ticks away and a gust of wind blows rain into my face, I turn my back and breathe in the funk of wet leaves and piss beneath my feet. Only it’s not long before my eyes are once more searching the sky, for I can feel it calling to me, whispering my name like a needy lover. And there it is, far away on the horizon, a red smudge in the swirling clouds. A faint glow that shimmers and hypnotises. It could be an eye, perhaps, or a portal to a place far removed from the prison I now occupy. Gazing at it as it floats above the rooftops, everything fades until it grows and swells and the music it sings gets into my bones turning them into glue.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com

8 replies »

  1. “They mock me with how easy it is for them to breathe, and as I pick my teeth and spit out tiny pieces of bone before sucking on my smoke, I wish with all I have to be like them.” I wonder how many of them actually want to be just like you, to be able to think as you do and then write it into something beautiful? A lot, I’ll wager.

    • If someone wanted to be just like me I’d feel very worried, but that’s a lovely thing for you to say. It’s worrying to think of how many people there are that don’t think outside the lines. To think of those who don’t feel or acknowledge their emotions… What a scary thought x

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