a bleak blog

a broken conch a pot with a hole  no thoughts  nothingness.  here it was, the birth it started small  just a bump and thump  there it grew  she knew  but did nothing.  creeping through the cracks  “you’re not good enough” a graceful mover  with enticing words.  loud  a shroud. 

he looked up at the sky bloody smoke grazed his eye through his mind he would decide whether or not to take his shot his '47 clutched he rushed limping to his side an exquisite bride should he or should he not take his shot he could not tell if she or he fell there she lay her eyes in dismay how could he not take his shot 'for them or for me' he thought quietly but alas the fear his decision was clear his stomach in a knot he took his shot

she was a challenge i had to master to do this i’d have to think faster see i had to take care of her clothe her and feed her in return she would care for me but she was pestering me with her virginity one day i had had enough maybe i could be a bit more rough she must listen to me she must i’d have to make her comfortable first luring her with a red M&M i took her to her bed it went okay i suppose she was tight but she got close to letting me fill her i told her it would be better if you sit now it’s habit oww she’d cry every time i’d tell her to open wide

the sweet sweat that dripped off your frustration into the curves of my cupped hands made me savour each drop of savoury and sweet. orange flesh pierced through the blunt sharpness of the banshee that grieved the very moment your skin fell apart. as it got closer to the pit, you got farther away from it, from me, until all that you left were the sickeningly sugared fumes of deep deep pulp. i smeared it across the cool curve of my cheek, the slight ridge of my lips, just to have that everlasting flavour linger. forever.

the heat of saturday night strangely transfers to the morning light of every sunday morning. as it creeps  through my blinds it leads to a jump-start to the day  in my semi-conscious state, i say “today is the day the day i die” a peculiar motivation as i  pull myself up and decide whether i should hurl myself off  from the window  or if i should OD on Dolo  or do it in the most domestic way possible? cut myself with the sharpest knife available lengthwise, of course, just by the median nerve while cherishing the knife’s straight curve as it slits and snips oh yes this is it

she was just a girl when they took her her parents’ own small world looming before her as she was forcefully made to experience treachery but was it? adolescence a doll as her only company zahia wasn’t like any other they’d share a bed bread secrets in the sweet arousal of the morning hour they’d take a shower savouring each drop of cold water her breathing growing hotter as zahia’s mouth molded into her folds magic was one way to describe the extent of her high but was she enough? she started to watch her closely jameela ma’am her clandestine meetings and profane greetings her supple finger  dancing on the gun’s trigger as she would skilfully eliminate anyone who deigned to disappoint her she would not be disappointed but how would she be? they set an appointment under the moonshine she tried to the best of her abilities (ignoring the slightly disgusting subtleties) to impress her mistres...

i like to live my life according to the colors of the rainbow they are the cause for creation of moments of pure jubilation  that make my life of absolution better i rise to the beautiful hue of violet and indigo and blue all over my torso i admire the conception of my latest bruise as i muster a smile at the memories of last night it was a relatively light retribution taking into consideration that yesterday i hadn’t seen green murky is my favourite shade for it contrasts well with the lime in the squares of the bathroom tile and i savour the satisfaction  of the result of the interaction between finger and uvula resisting the urge to swallow bile (and dinner from last night) tumbling out my only solace now is in yellow i trudge outside until i spot my happy little pill three, three times morning afternoon night i relish the smooth curves  and oval shape that forgives all of my mistak...