|Temporary Landing Zone
||[Mar. 31st, 2011|08:19 am]
Sean A. Berridge
Since I have no place to post my writing, here will do for now! |
This one is based off a dream I had about 12 hours ago.
Of toxic and virulent venom that courses through veins like fire, bone marrow spongiform and the viscosity compounds to consume and fill. Nerves pinch in fear and joints bend and crackle and vex and heat is everywhere. Purple floods the mind. Sclera bleeds but the skin repels, of this feeling so implicitly broken, cracked, violated, oozing the self through pores.
Of apocalypse, murder, violence, rebuke, caution, claim, time, quiet.
I wake up skillfully. I am already awake. My wrist quivers, and I cling to it as it cannot digest the poison. Neither can the rest of me and I already know this which is why I am standing up and why my coat clings to me. The silence in the darkened room fills my insides to replenish where I had leaked and I feel dark. My wrist complains and I am silent.
I leap into action. I am already working both at my job and on improving my routine so that none would notice my decision to leave today. I am a secret agent and I am excellent. I have no fear during my routine as I eliminate anything that could cause me fear. My chest heaves in mock surprise but I silence it. It needed to remain quiet for now and I continue my routine.
My white coat holds me together. Someone asks me how I am doing and I tell them that I am fine, because I am fine. I am held together. My fingers scream but I hide them in task and no one can tell. They are pale but they will not be quiet. I silence them but they will not be quiet. They will not be quiet.
My chest touches my wrist which touches my fingers which touches glass and the glass touches poison. I anticipate this poison inside of me but my fingers bend in fear and the glass falls. I am incredible and the poison is rescued and my chest heaves again in mock surprise. It reaches for the glass. I turn the glass upside-down and watch the poison form shapes. I am becoming coherent. I check my watch and nod my head.
I tap the syringe once to hear the sound of nail on glass. She sits before me, and looks fearful but I don't care. I smile and speak but I feel as though she can't hear me. I don't care. I pierce her skin with the needle and inject the fluid into her and exhale as I do. She stiffens and I smile.
2-bedroom apartment, no boyfriend. Insomnia, seizures, hallucinations, and head aches. No pets, ever. Blonde hair, short. Father is dead. First kiss at age 15. Allergic to parsley. Can count to 10 in Mandarin. Hit a dog with her car and never told. Eating disorder in high school. Addicted to lying. Hates mother. Never been in love.
I bathe in her DNA as though she were there watching me, with glib excitement and burning pleasure. I become her. My cracks are filled with a skin-coloured paste and my lips flow red with blood and my eyes become white and their irises coloured. Skin like bandages covers my chest and embraces me and I no longer desire to be silent. My wrists flash with boldness and my fingers crush my flamboyant hair and she is dead but I am alive.
I am alive!
O venulous flesh! O violet toxin that consumes, digests, and creates and we are all one with!
Why, as I vied for you for so long, did I wait?
A heart on fire, pumping magma like blood through tunnels of bedrock and I scream in the immense pleasure of success and every part of me screams with me.
I scream for so, so long.
I scream and soon my screams twist and malform and my heart like a stone leaks through its tiny pores. A dampness and a coldness appear where life should be. I can't turn my head for fear, and it licks at my nape and I shiver.
Of the unknown and solitary pulses that plunge and burst and suffer with clicks, bites, and baying it melts into itself and emerges on the other side. Pustules parapet the arching sickness that drips and coughs and shudders and crawls languidly as fear itself would and leaves in its wake a bubbling poison thick and blue.
It is her and I know it is her and I can't move. Every part of me is silent and even my fingers will not scream but I wish to clutch. She is huge and she is here. She will kill me. She will engulf me. She will take me into herself and I will become horrid and blue and bulbous as she. She stares at me and I know that I am dead.
I wake up painfully. My mind is blue but my heart is red. The dampness remains but the fear is gone and my chest heaves in mockery.
"Thank goodness," I say and my red lips part messily. "Thank goodness that was just a dream."
"Yes," she agrees. "Thank goodness."
She sits over me and watches me and smiles. My red lips drip with poison and I clutch my fingers as I cannot digest it and she doesn't care. She smiles and she doesn't care and I know why.
I watch in boundless fear as she stabs my heart and I know that I am dead and she is alive.