Twenty-nine-Seven

It was one of those dreams you don’t really remember when you wake. That confused feeling is all you’re left with. You wake up fighting with sheets that have tangled themselves around your limbs.

It was magical… I think.

Mystical… maybe?

And I know I wasn’t alone in it all.

 

I woke with a start just minutes after falling asleep, feeling like I was being held under and drowning still. But before I could comprehend anything fully, the magic pulled me back in and greedily I succumbed… fully, never once looking back.

To say it was the most peaceful sleep would be to lie. Newborn babies have more restful nights than I had. But I would do it all over in a heartbeat.

Just Call Me Um… from Umbridge

I’ve been told countless times that I have a talent (not trying to float my own boat here, but often I’m just too stubborn to hear it… but so what? If after reading anything I’ve ever written you believe there is a smidge of talent spread before your eyes in the words I spew, please feel free to let me know. And if you disagree please don’t hide your feelings from me).

(Un)fortunately that talent has not been rusting away. For the past few years I have participated in NaNoWriMo, so this year I’ve decided on early practice sessions… and what you ask are those? The best kind of practice for such a daunting adventure (please get your mind out of the gutter) I’m talking about SLEEP baby… and plenty of it. My aim is to get enough now so that when I’m able to peel my too tight Halloween Mumu/ costume from my dance-tired body, I’ll forfeit sleep for the next 30 days after, writing to my little heart’s content.

I plan on devouring as much caffeine in as many forms as I can get it, and fruit to sustain my energy along with many pastry type foods & I promise to try my best at being an optimist in those days... but I might fail from the get-go.

On a different note: guess who I want to be this year for Halloween?  Check the title of this post for clues.

Thank you for reading this rant, I’ll try to post on my progress often if not at all.

Your favourite dooms-day-cookie, Pessimist

Um from Umbridge (Nj In Wonderland)

Down the Rabbit Hole

Like a deck of cards, this house is falling apart.

The queen of hearts is calling for my head on a silver platter.

I think she knows the knave of hearts has stolen my heart and I might have poisoned the jam tarts, because this is just a fly-by-night romance waiting to fizzle out & this plan B is to save my baby Jabberwocky.

Wash Away Nightmare

The water pounds my neck & back.

Bubbles & suds collect above the drain grate and breathing becomes easier as steam emits off reddened skin.

We wash away the grime of a day & with it all the bad memories the day brought on & hope the good memories linger to turn themselves into glorious dreams later on.

No Love Lost Here

The Gods of Thunder & Lightning are at it again. He yells, she screams.

And I like it, not the yelling and screaming part of course, I’m not that cold… but I do like the love between them.

You see the way it works is that they’re ‘fighting the love in’. They truly do care for each other dearly and in the end fighting is just another form of foreplay, right?

The first time jitters

Your finger lingers, touching the sensitive skin of my belly. Your hand moved smoothly over the bumps of my ribs. Your fingers splayed freely over my goose-pimpled flesh. I was scared, but who wouldn’t be?

Being this free with you was damn intimidating. I’m sure I shivered, but the gentleman in you just didn’t acknowledge that.

Your devilish eyes played over every inch of my nakedness. And when you peeled my hands back to see me, I sent out a silent “Thank you” to the heavens that you wanted to see me like this.

The Pool

Child-like footprints, bloodied & sparse, leading the way like breadcrumbs to a darkened corner where she sits huddled against the darkness where she feels the walls closing in on her.

The sticky crimson marks her face as it drenches her hands, while her blackened eye acts as more than just a reason… an excuse… a way out.

But the red pool beckons inviting her into its sinful depths.

And all you long for is the embrace of a lost love to feel the imagined arms encircle you, to have the cold dank emptiness dissolve into blackness…