The knife twists perilously in the air, ever driving downwards, towards the already blood stained rather below it. With exhausted eyes and a reflex long shot, Jarmil watches as the knife digs into the soil, and sucks in his last breath as a powerful hand rests itself upon his shoulder.
“That’s what I mean Damon, you can’t be trusted.” she says with a evil grin upon her face. “I didn’t realise it was a negative.” “You wouldn’t, your kind never do.” “My kind? Are you shoehorning me into a category?” “If I could, I’d shove you in something far finer!”
The blade digs into the flesh, tearing at it like a newborn baby does its mothers teats. He lets out a gargled cry for help, while he helplessly stares into her glee filled eyes. “W-W-Why?” he stammers. “Sometimes there is no way lover, sometimes it is just what it is.”
“So you tell me that now, when we have grow close. Why couldn’t you have said something earlier, like real early. Before I…” “Before you what?” he asks with a bemused smile upon his face. “Before I actually started to like you!” He laughs softly, “So you do like me!”
A walnut brown, twisted frame, hard bodied surfer, semen stains shorts, blisters on the palms of hands. surgical percussion, transgender lies, mythical bathtubs falling from the sky, wanting wisdom, while believing lies, whispered words of intimacy, an exit turned into an entrance, friendships lost, weathered worn, my eyes darkened, forgiveness nevermore….
Dollars for the insults, with pennies for the clowns, a Wednesday worthy of substance, a substance unworthy to be found, hallowed fortress given strength, a watched kettle on the fritz, my name dragged through the sand, a witness gone missing never to be found, your fondness was a virtue, but my blade was too quick, …
They stand staring out of the doorway, mesmerised at the nothingness that quietly sits before then. “Do you think it’s true? Do you think what it said holds even half a truth?” He snarls, bering his teeth like a rabid animal. “If you don’t want to answer the question, don’t!”
A showdown of the former self, wisdom lost in the snow of serendipity, we perfect false realities upon ourselves, hiding even deeper than before, a mirror held before you, a window broken now, eyes are holes we see through, our mouths through lies are told, sin is given like candy, perfection is the painting, life …
When I was a child, who knew nothing of the world, a child of ignorance, a child without care, the world moved forward, and time ticked as well, life became a masterpiece, life became a lie, lost in the ignorance of the child, who is not to helpless to care, struggling as an adult, cracking …
“It’s a frost you fool, nothing more, nothing less. Had you looked over the itinerary before hand, you would’ve know that then, not now.” he growls through gritted teeth. “To do that, I’d have to know what was happening before hand, instead on the fly?” “You’d say anything, wouldn’t you!”