“...Oh, if you ask me I will see this through...”

“I want an old time love... nothing else is good enough,” I sing along. It’s still except for the radio and my terrible singing. Silence is golden, oh so golden when stolen from quiet lips.
“... Nothing else is g-g-good enough,” I sniffle wiping at moist eyes. My voice is coated with tears and I try to push away every contemptuous thought suffocating me. I’m wondering if this is life or just my nightmares playing on a loop.
Try? I might.
Succeed? Not quite.
A hand pauses on my shoulder, a finger wipes away a tear and a deeper voice whispers low: “try to succeed...” I smile.
Why the hell not!
You’re so right!

The Treacherous Transparent Fight

The brisk currents pull me close, close to the wave’s core: the crashing water splashing over my head. I’m afraid of what I might find, what might happen.
Slowly and then ever faster the crashing ceases and water rushes by. My form drenched I trudge deeper and deeper trying desperately to keep pace with the rushing... I’m only human. Man can try, but never beat the odds.
With every step I take the wind whispers softly in my ear telling tales of long lost heroes: Heroes of old. Tales whispered so sweetly. The tears spill from my eyes or is it just the rain pouring from the sky?

The sky so dark and yet so light, is grey as night. The wind no longer to be heard- all is calm. I still move; further, deeper. Wave’s crash against my shivering form: it’s cold, so cold... I cannot give up now. Still I move as bursts of waves push me against, above and below brisk currents. Desperately I try to keep my feet firmly in the sand.

I just need the water to bury me. Take me under and cover my naked body in its watery heat. “Protect me from all evil, please,” I beg as I am taken down. My knees are forced beneath me, my eyes close and my mouth involuntarily opens- I am calm. I fight. The current pushes me up, but I force myself down. I fight.

Washing over me I feel different... new. Am I? Will I ever be? No. Do I ever want to be? It would just be easier to allow the crashing to continue over my head. To wipe away all my fears, my sorrows, to make me new, clean, whole.

We’ve got to want what we need and need what we want. I want the water to push me down to bury me, but most of all I need to be burned by the water. Allow the pressure... succumb to it.

But our wants are no longer important it’s the needs that count to make love exist enough to make this world go round to make happiness abound so that we stop trying to drown our hearts.

...As Truth Instead of Lies

I’ve already believed in dreams coming true, in magic and in white unicorns. Those myths and fables are the treasures of my heart.
It’s weird you always think it’s the little kids and their imaginary friends who believe. They’re able to experience things we no longer care to. Their childlike faith and ability to believe allows imaginations to run wild.

And I could really care less that my left shoe doesn’t match my right as long as I’m with you. And I could care less that my eye lids are heavy because we don’t keep normal humanoid hours if it means we get to be together. So un-expose your heart and re-focus the lens. Shoot. Rethread the needle and stitch it to my sleeve. This world is devoid of love. So please get some freaky science dudes in white lab coats together to reinvent love the way it should be.

Your every footfall is mirrored by my every step as you hold me close and we dance to the flickering lights. I breathe you in and make a self-centred vow: I’m gonna try to be generic for just one day, then for every after I will always be me, the dreamer with the pet unicorn- the one you love.

I’d already believed in dreams coming true, in you, in love I just didn’t think I’d get to experience it all at once.

Wish upon a silver star... the only lights in the dark...

Night had come fulfilling its habitual cycle. The sky freckled with glamorous stars, lighting the path. Silently trudging along, fearful for what she had done.
Escape! She’d taken what could never be hers. Regret filled her heart. “...Should’ve grabbed all possible bits of evidence,” she scolded herself. She walked on, increasing her pace.
“...At this very moment all hell could be breaking loose. Shit, fuck, shit,” she swore loudly knowing the cat would be out of the proverbial bag by now. Her brain screamed for her to make a run for it, but her every extremity became leaden.
She needed to turn back, to confess, she knew it with every beat of her heart. “...Confess to what, he deserved everything he got,” she spoke louder this time and then whispered a quick ‘Hail Mary’ while fingering her black Rosary with nervous tentative hands. She stroked her favourite piece of jewellery once more, admiring its colour. Black the most sinful colour, the nuns would be ashamed.
But she didn’t feel safe though...

Back in Time

The candle flickers, the flame low.
Oh how soon death comes.
Darkness has gathered round us.
Oh for a penny and a smile...

So take a deep breath and
See the world outside.
Life’s so over-rated, but
It’s cool when you’re in
The swing of things...
And all eyes are on you and me.

The Prison

Is it humane to ignore the screams of a woman bound, as her husband -a man she trusted for the better part of a decade, loved more than she did herself- bloodied his fists with every thrust at her face? He was killing her, physically, emotionally and mentally; he found satisfaction in the breaking of her bones and her soul.
I hid behind the closed door. I couldn’t stand the pain she endured, her cries caused my heart to crack, but I knew it ‘wasn’t my business’, I knew it because that’s what I’d forced myself to believe each time he got too angry. So I closed the door, closed my ears, closed my mouth, closed my eyes, closed my head off and closed my heart.
I could still sense her fears with every whimper and every intake of breath. I still heard his curses at her, his names of love: “whore, bitch, and cunt”. My blood boiled and I forced shaky fingers to turn the key in the lock, sealing me in.
The beat of drums, the screech of guitars and the sweet sound of melodic voices intertwined as it poured out of my headphones, forming a wall between me and the carnage the wife endured.
“P-p-please s-s-stop it,” I heard her pleas through my barricade. I even held my breath as he promised his love and sealed it with a resoundingly painful slap on bare flesh.
Surprisingly I could already hear her ’explanations’ as to the purple-tinged class-ring imprint on the apple of her cheek, the ‘it-was-all-my-fault’s’, the blustering, the quiet voice, the screaming eyes, the nightmarish shouts and the cold sweats. The blatant lying... to herself and those who love her.
I could see the pain of an all too willing housewife. I could see the bruising and all I had to do was to stare into a mirror as I tried to smooth the concealer over my new ‘love mark’!

The fighting depressions...

She felt tainted, like she was broken. She tried desperately not to think of how empty inside she was. She knew all it took was seeing his face, hear his voice, or even just hear his name spoken aloud for her resolve to disappear.
She knew how easy it would be to break down the walls she hid behind. How much emotion she was learning to suppress. She knew it wouldn’t be too long before her best friends realised all of this and left her the same way he did. But worst of all, she knew she wasn’t just lying to her friends, family and loved ones, she was lying to herself and she felt guilty. But that was that. “Lie to yourself,” she whispered to her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Forget the only way you know how,” she said jabbing a finger at the mirror. “Life needs to go on,” she yelled at the closed bathroom door as she fought to escape its grasp.
She followed the sound of music till she came to a dance floor packed with too drunk people. She thought about heading over to the bar, thought better of it and decided to join the over-heated mass of bodies on the dance floor.