Freestyle # 1
It's simple. I look at you, you look at me, our eyes meet and, voila! Everything is magic. Yeah, I wish it could all be like that fairytale, but it’s not, and you’re getting blood on my shirt. I'm a bitch? No, I'm not a bitch, I just see life for what it really is: Fake. Everything in this world is a fantasy of some fucked up adolescent or middle-aged spectacle. “Cut yourself! Make believe!” They say it like a movie director tells us to memorize lines. It’s all about entertainment. Whatever you'd like to see, I’ll do it for you. "Hey honey! Get some popcorn, Something's happening! I think she's feeling violent!" Yeah, I'm feeling violent. My delirium is waning like the full moon in July. "Where are my pills? I need my pills!" Happy Happy. It's funny how chemicals make it all feel better. Chemicals! Chemicals! The dependence feels so sweet. Mmm, white tablets under my tongue. They melt like ice on my back. Ice you placed so carefully and deliberately on my spine. It's tightening, yes, pulling. It makes my brain swell, this ice. It takes away from the burns, though. The sun loves the taste of white flesh. Pink and brown, Pink and decaying. A great life force brings death to the smallest things.I went under waves and the salt faltered on my lips. It tasted like you; flavor of sweet masculinity, sweat. Your essence danced upon my tongue and made me kiss the sea.
I'm falling into a hole, you say? I think perhaps you are correct in your assumptions. It does seem to be getting darker.
Line, Line, Line.
White and stealing they sway behind me along the black dunes.
I see a faint red glow.
I think it's my sanity, but I'm not sure.
I lost it some time ago so
I don't quite know how to recognize it anymore.
It seems as though it may be just a light. Yes, it's a light. Two of them blinking simultaneously, Rhythmic invasions in my pupils, out, in, open, closed, big, small. They dilate and disappear like your hands upon me. I can feel them now, your fingers. They are long and spider-like, crawling over my breasts and throughout my hair. I'm sure they are warm and slithering over me. There is a heated breeze in my ear that smells sweet and I think it's the air you are breathing beside me. My skin rises with every pass of your fingertips and my eyes flutter open with the sensations placed below my waist. It's awakening yet it drowns me in oblivion, you. Your lips are flower petals falling gracefully to my mouth, to my teeth and tongue. I can feel them falling and caressing me with warmth and wetness. These petals upon me feel like razorblades when comes the remembrance of your betrayal. Razorblades on my heart and my body, my wrists. They're bleeding; I cut them for you, only for you, my love. I cut out my damage; I cut out my faults for you.
"It's all in your head" they say to me, like I'm deranged, insane. My pain is all unreal; it's a figment of my twisted imagination. I don't know how to feel correctly. It's as if my heart reads a miswritten mechanical code, unrecognized by any humane figure. I’m unknown, I’m unknown to me.
Red and glittering. your words are pear-shaped and send me a cylindrical sensation under my eyes. It’s rolling and turns inward towards my brain, withered and wilting underneath the weight of your gaze upon this left tree iris. Your looks are desirable yet they penetrate through this silver chord blocking entrance to my deepening caverns of wakefulness.
Under this blanket of crystalline and indigo it seems as though there is only one warmth, one tide overtaking. Your back to mine is warm and comforting, though this silence is carrying the chills to the base of my spine. Your golden flesh against my pale cream is a contrast yet there is no difference. I can feel your life beating, your blood heating even though the tears flow with indifference. The cold slowly disappears as I am cradled suddenly in your welcoming embrace, and warm oblivion surrounds my fetal form. Deliciously licking at my soul, your warmth extends into my fingertips, touching your bare shoulders, encased with a skin melting slowly underneath me. Wake up and face me, wake up and be warm inside my eyes. Those lashes surrounding dance when you cry; they dance with a cloak of salted tears under my lips. Your pain arouses me, my inner core will cover you, love, protect you from me.
posted by Kasey @ 9/07/2005 09:28:00 PM
3 Comments:
Housekeeping issue, totally separate from reader's or teacher's reaction: label this Freestyle 1, and you will be a happier human as you spin through the universe--trust me!
Okay, now for reader's reaction:
what do you want from a freestyle? A chance to vent, a snappy piece of writing, a class assignment, a piece of writing that creates a new reality by its very existence, a prose poem for a special reader?
You tell me what you want and I can help you get there.
What I see right now is a lot: drugs, sex, sadness, anger, images, metaphors, love, mystery--all in the process of exploding off the page.
It's a little bit of everything isn't it? I was on vacation and I felt like writing, nothing really personal or specific or about me really, but just what I felt sounded interesting. I write some things that are a little wacko to some people, but I enjoy it thoroughly, nonetheless. I don't know what you mean by what I want from a freestyle. I just want to be able to write what I want when I feel like it about whatever I choose, in whatever style I choose. I don't know.
Okay--what you want from a freestyle is clear, and--how's this for a deal?--you can do exactly what you want (in the freestyles) for the next fifteen weeks.
Post a Comment
<< Home