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darkness.
neither bliss nor foreboding,
just complete and utter blankness.
slowly, as though a gentle hand to guide me,
the faintest shiver awakens me.
falling faster, eyes open to the horrors of blackness,
of the stained soul that plummets into the flames beneath.
twisting, distorted,
senses return.
faint whispers as the tremors grow,
and the taste and smell of iron and bile rising.
wasted. rejected.
heart of granite crushed on stone.
whispers grow.
breath on the nape of the neck, traveling slowly.
hands close around, tightening,
tugging and dragging.
ice cold against warm flesh.
panic.
inaudible, over and over,
"please, no."
(never sleep, never die,
never, ever shut your eyes.)
words are words, not remedies.
stains like ash float like pebbles through the stream.
nightmares painted in red, black and blue.
you are everywhere.
(never sleep, never die,
never gonna shut my eyes)
words are words, not remedies.
beat, broken heart. beatbeatbeat...
beating against me,
not a comfort, but smothering,
strangling.
incessantly the emptiness grows.
resuscitate me.
marks and mirrors, little blacks and blues.
remember the prettiest hues hidden beneath, waiting.
dreaming, perhaps,
either sleeping or screaming,
either paralyzed or heaving and tangled in sheets like ice.
whisperings, again and again.
(falling, screaming, crying, waking,
will i ever reach the end?)
hush, little butterfly,
don't you cry.
mama said she'd buy you a whole new life
now hush, little butterfly,
don't you cry,
though mama sang her lullaby to say goodbye.
words are words,
not remedies. and when she holds your hand,
it doesn't make the nightmares go away.
words are words,
not remedies. and pretty smiles and dream catchers
cannot rewind time to rescue pretty butterflies
from the dark stains left inside.
(you have the brightest eyes.
would you like to play a game with me?
just follow me into the darkness.
everything will be all right.
just follow me to midnight,
and never sleep again.)
arms outstretch and take,
not gently, but violently.
twisting, jerking.
falling.
catch me and drag me away.
cannot escape.
cannot speak.
(if i hide, you will find me.
if i run, you will catch me.)
i taste and smell iron,
and i can't stop shaking.
you are everywhere.
blind eyes and blackness.
"please, help me!"
screams that once fell mountains,
are not but the faintest whispers here.
[ i fell asleep with a smile on my face expecting to dream,
for happiness was mine. i thought i couldn't
because you told me to hush and whispered i was worthless.
but another voice rose above yours and told me
that i was everything in the universe,
again and again "these are the words you deserve to hear."
i trusted, for the first time in so long,
and the gift was greater than anything i had ever imagined.
but a jolt and tremor reminded me of words and feelings i'd dared to forget,
and i woke too terrified to close my eyes again.]
you take everything from me.
neither bliss nor foreboding,
just complete and utter blankness.
slowly, as though a gentle hand to guide me,
the faintest shiver awakens me.
falling faster, eyes open to the horrors of blackness,
of the stained soul that plummets into the flames beneath.
twisting, distorted,
senses return.
faint whispers as the tremors grow,
and the taste and smell of iron and bile rising.
wasted. rejected.
heart of granite crushed on stone.
whispers grow.
breath on the nape of the neck, traveling slowly.
hands close around, tightening,
tugging and dragging.
ice cold against warm flesh.
panic.
inaudible, over and over,
"please, no."
(never sleep, never die,
never, ever shut your eyes.)
words are words, not remedies.
stains like ash float like pebbles through the stream.
nightmares painted in red, black and blue.
you are everywhere.
(never sleep, never die,
never gonna shut my eyes)
words are words, not remedies.
beat, broken heart. beatbeatbeat...
beating against me,
not a comfort, but smothering,
strangling.
incessantly the emptiness grows.
resuscitate me.
marks and mirrors, little blacks and blues.
remember the prettiest hues hidden beneath, waiting.
dreaming, perhaps,
either sleeping or screaming,
either paralyzed or heaving and tangled in sheets like ice.
whisperings, again and again.
(falling, screaming, crying, waking,
will i ever reach the end?)
hush, little butterfly,
don't you cry.
mama said she'd buy you a whole new life
now hush, little butterfly,
don't you cry,
though mama sang her lullaby to say goodbye.
words are words,
not remedies. and when she holds your hand,
it doesn't make the nightmares go away.
words are words,
not remedies. and pretty smiles and dream catchers
cannot rewind time to rescue pretty butterflies
from the dark stains left inside.
(you have the brightest eyes.
would you like to play a game with me?
just follow me into the darkness.
everything will be all right.
just follow me to midnight,
and never sleep again.)
arms outstretch and take,
not gently, but violently.
twisting, jerking.
falling.
catch me and drag me away.
cannot escape.
cannot speak.
(if i hide, you will find me.
if i run, you will catch me.)
i taste and smell iron,
and i can't stop shaking.
you are everywhere.
blind eyes and blackness.
"please, help me!"
screams that once fell mountains,
are not but the faintest whispers here.
[ i fell asleep with a smile on my face expecting to dream,
for happiness was mine. i thought i couldn't
because you told me to hush and whispered i was worthless.
but another voice rose above yours and told me
that i was everything in the universe,
again and again "these are the words you deserve to hear."
i trusted, for the first time in so long,
and the gift was greater than anything i had ever imagined.
but a jolt and tremor reminded me of words and feelings i'd dared to forget,
and i woke too terrified to close my eyes again.]
you take everything from me.
Like last night, they're not tremors. They're worse than tremors. They're these terrors, and it's like--
it feels as if someone is gripping my throat.
xx
Last night, I had a nightmare I haven't had in years.
This is different than my usual style and I'm not sure what I think of it. I didn't write it this way intentionally. It took three tries to get out anything at all. I may scrap it later.
I also couldn't decide on the title. Officially it's Carnival, but I may change it to House of Horrors or work something in.
it feels as if someone is gripping my throat.
xx
Last night, I had a nightmare I haven't had in years.
This is different than my usual style and I'm not sure what I think of it. I didn't write it this way intentionally. It took three tries to get out anything at all. I may scrap it later.
I also couldn't decide on the title. Officially it's Carnival, but I may change it to House of Horrors or work something in.
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Comments20
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I love reading your poetry, darlin.