Necrophilia

“The world could end today.” He stated matter-of-factly.

He rolled onto his left side on the blue and white striped sheets to face her. The bed squeaked in protest. She did not acknowledge it. She stared a vacant stare; she was off in wonderland.He reached his hand up slowly and lightly touched her hair. Maybe just maybe the slight vibration would penetrate her skull and tickle her brain drawing her back to him.

Her eyelids closed and when they opened she was back. She squinted her eyes a tad bit like she usually did when she was focusing really hard on something. Her face was smooth no creases although her lips were pursed as if ready to lay a kiss on his forehead. He knew every crease. Every curve and flavor for he had adventured it late at nights and early in the mornings on filthy corners and even in puny closets that by no means diminished it’s sweet ambrosial taste.

“The world has been over for a while now,” She whispered almost like a sigh. “I was there  eyes wide with innocence. Mind utterly unprepared. The world has been over for a while now,” she let the silence sit,  “I remember…. I was there.”

He hated when she said things like that. It was like she was teasing him with all the dark corners of her soul she had put in vaults and didn’t want to share. It unsettled him. Her darkness unsettled him. He nestled closer to her an automatic reflex after months of this routine. He knew that asking wouldn’t make a difference. She would simply withdraw from him an armadillo into the shell that was her mind. Eyes vacant, body cold, he didn’t like to be with a zombie.

She was still a little warm from the last half an hour. She wrapped her arm around him and nestled deep into his hairless chest. She pressed her body against him almost painfully. It felt to him as if she was trying to drown in him. She’d rather be in him than out of her mind alone. She just didn’t want to be alone, even if she was just a zombie. How did he fall in love with a zombie?

He lay on his back and she automatically rearranged herself deeper into him. He stared at the filthy white ceiling. Nothing had changed it was still rough. No matter how many times he looked and wished he were somewhere else staring at something else it was always rough. He squeezed his eyes and tried a little harder. It was still rough. He was stuck just him his bed and the filthy rough white ceiling. She kissed him softly on his chest blurring his thoughts. He loved the sensation, a slight distraction from the roughness.

How did he fall in love with a zombie? He never thought she was. He remembers a park bench, laughter so deep it rocked her body, and he never realized it didn’t reach her eyes until they finally lay down. And he lay on his back watching the rough white ceiling. He loved her no matter how many times he stared up wondering what demons she had locked down deep inside her; what demons took her away from him even as they shared heat; what demons she thought were to heavy too share with him; what demons made her a zombie? He knew her too well to even ask. He squeezed his eyes again and opened them to the same filthy white.

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Where the Dead Things Are

Silence beats at your ears and it bleeds
because you know your screams can never be as loud as your silence
in telling your tale of where the dead things are.

The dead do not weep.
So of course your soul is bleak
and stares out of hollow eyes
informing me
that your glitter hides corpses that reek
of self pity and self hate
because lets face it
you were never strong enough to love yourself
especially if society had a hand in it
labeling you and us all
to be nicely packed and shelved
but you know and I know that displays are just that,
DISPLAYS.
It’s all a front; a big fake
cuz we know deep inside where the dead things are.

Inside there is no need to hide
no need to lie
about who we are or what we want
so we nurse our inner diva
but it remains just that a secret
out of fear of crucifixion
of public conviction
that we are not;
smart enough, rich enough, beautiful enough, Or even well connected enough
so we stifle our dreams
deep inside us
out of fear for persecution
we kill our own hopes
murder our own dreams
before they have a chance to
bud- farless a chance to bloom
our chances have been doomed
so our insides become graveyards
paying everlasting tribute to what could’ve been.
So these graveyards we neglect
in frail attempt to avoid spiraling into regret
and spiraling even deeper into despair.
We never want to visit where the dead things are.
We never want to face our deaths.

 

Best Friends & Betrayal

My whole life I’ve had about 2 Best Friends excluding my current boyfriend. My latest best friend stopped being that at the beginning of this year. It hurt. It was unexpected but not shocking. It was betrayal.

Earlier this year I wrote a post about  friendship ( https://kizzyinchainz.wordpress.com/2011/02/10/the-audacity-of-friendship/ ). Please take a few minutes to check it out it might help you comprehend this piece better. It was brought to my attention that the two girls I used as the photo to represent the piece are no longer best friends. Was I shocked? A little. But what this, coupled with a few other things going on in my life made me think, was why? Why do great friendships end?  Why is it that the people that we trust the most and give so much too end up so distant from us?

First we have to examine the dynamics of these relationships. There are moments in life when we stumble across diamonds in the rough. At these moments we rarely ever think “o my, in a few months this diamond will feel that they’re too good for me,” or “o in a few months this diamond will cut instead of shine,” because in these moments we are awestruck by the beauty of these artificial suns. Take my advice if you stumble upon a diamond in the rough RUN! I don’t mean a light run, I’m talking  full out- full blown SPRINT!

Okay maybe I’m exaggerating maybe everyone deserves a chance but if things turn out bad, if you end up on the bathroom floor at 1am bawling your eyes out in the dark, remember I warned you. What I’ve come to realize is that when you stumble upon these “diamonds” their shine eclipses the darkest part of them, the part buried deep. The issue here is that when you first meet someone I mean really meet; tongue out and really lick the intimate parts of their soul you haven’t burrowed deep enough to taste their dark side. As you continue to taste and lick away the layers this is what happens:

  • you share jokes
  • you have some deep connections
  • your mind connects on another level
  • you begin to entwine with them
  • they make you smile and laugh more than normal
  • secrets!!
  • you share interests
  • you may even be able to communicate without words (i’m not joking here people)

And it’s these things, these distractions that prevent you from realize that the more you “lick” the darker the colors become the deeper you go. It’s the sparks that sidetrack and distract you from the impending darkness.

Slowly things begin to change. The jokes become double edged swords. Smiles become sly and dangerous. Words start to drip more and more with sarcasm, disdain, and annoyance. You haven’t even realize it but you’ve burrowed to the parts of your diamond that was not meant to be seen….. the inside. It is dark; tainted; it is black.   The deeper you burrow the more you realize that there is no more sweet layers of soul, there are only layers that are sour and bitter. You struggle and keep burrowing in search of the sweetness that was there in the beginning but I’m sorry to say you’ve devoured it all. Slowly you begin to cringe from the thought of them and when you see them you mirror what you receive; hate. Yes, hate. You don’t know how it got there but it did; maybe it’s fueled by jealousy; maybe frustration; maybe anger but the hate is there throbbing and growing as if it is alive and is breathing the darkness within.

When this happens people it’s time to stop burrowing and remember damn she did tell me to run. Sometimes it’s worth it you learn so much from that person but sometimes the hurt isn’t worth it (it’s up to you to decide). Listen up! When that diamond decides to cut don’t be surprised. You may have to hurt and cry for a while but if you hold on to the hurt you’ll never heal and move on, your insides will become just as dark if not darker. Forgive the person(s), forget the actions, but never forget the pain and the lessons! Trudge carefully when stumbling upon these deceitful diamonds; these best friends. They can be many things but they are dangerous and if you entrust in them your very soul and secrets they can most likely betray you with their darkness.

note:

  •   best friends from childhood are less likely to hurt or harm you beware of newer people that you know very little about!!
  • not everyone is a diamond on the outside n dark on the inside some people are reversed
  • Also make the most out of that hurt and learn a lesson!