OctoberFlashFic: Unsure

I loved her, and she loved me.

Did she love me? I was never sure.

I was fat, and she wasn’t, but she never seemed to mind. She went down on me as if I were a supermodel. She clutched my back rolls like they were holy sacraments, burying her face between my thighs to make me believe she really loved the way I tasted.

“You don’t have to,” I told her. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

Then she smiled mischievously at me. “What the hell else would I do on a Tuesday afternoon?” she inquired.

That was why I loved her. I think she loved me, too – but I was never sure.


Smoke on the Water

Chilling in between the sun and the shadows

Relatively free of weight

A light synth beat in my head

Broken angel wings strewn across the bed

Shining with dew and fairy dust.

Open curtains at the windows

Letting in late summer light

Autumn on the horizon with its scent of death

Carried on ghostly fingers like a lover’s breath

Trembling with the fragility of time.

Embrace the Pain

Take the self-pity out of your words. Look into the darkness, and accept it for what it is. Love is a fantasy, but lust is very real. You can rely on that. No two people can discern one another. But pain is real, and you can take comfort in that.

Happy endings are like ice cream, they taste nice, but they’re not good for you. Look into the darkness. Accept the pain, and embrace it. If you hold it in the right way, it even feels good. Let the sharp edges jut into you, and throw your head back while the warm blood drips down your body. If it gets on the sheets, you can just wash them in the morning.

Tragedy is almost like sex, it can inflate you like a balloon, filling your core until you forget who you were before. Romeo’s death was like a soft kiss, and Juliet’s expiration was orgasmic. What could have been more beautiful?

Look into the darkness. If you’re bad, accept it. Embrace it. People pretend to be good – but who is? Hold the darkness in your arms, kiss it like it’s your lover. You’ll never find a more loyal concubine. Some people are better than others, and if you fall below the mark, don’t fret. There are plenty of other fish at the bottom of the barrel. The fish at the top are too hard to catch, they like the light, they like the sun. They don’t want to be dragged down into the darkness. Let them swim over you, even if it breaks your heart.

Hearts are made of a strange material, very loose and flexible, though they bleed so easily. But blood can be cleaned. If you lose too much, it makes you dizzy, but you can just lie down for a while. No one will blame you for it. Then, when you’re strong enough, you can let the blood flow down again. Let the darkness pierce you. Lie down underneath it. The sooner you accept that this is your fate, the sooner what’s left of you can roam free.

Complex Ticking

“The state of one’s heart,” Gala countered,

“Is not so simple as that.”

And take heed – this is true.

There are moments of weakness

(Much more common, I find)

And there are moments of strength

(Hard to locate, but not nonexistent).

Depression can make you want to

Alter your physical appearance

While happiness can make you feel beautiful.

But the exterior is just a mold

Ever-changing, hardly more than putty

In a petulant child’s fist.

Why prize it so highly?

You may be pleased with your countenance

But while your heart is in shards

It does you little good.

Better to let the putty melt a bit

Better to let the child deform it a little

If a healthy heart is the end result.

The Vampire Elf Queen

Her name is Queen Ivory, and I love her because she is different from the one I knew before.

She is the elf queen of the Emerald Palace. She has long golden locks, bright blue eyes, and skin white as milk.

She tells me she loves me. “Human women,” she says, “they are so fickle. One moment they express interest, the next moment they have flitted away – pssh – after some colorful butterfly.”

“Ah, yes,” I say groggily, having become drunk on her darkenberry wine.

“They cannot sate you the way I can,” she goes on to say, locking my eyes with her ice-blue gaze.

“Perhaps not,” I whisper, the world swimming before my eyes. “But still – I loved her.”

“Did you?” she inquires. “You humans cannot even comprehend the meaning of love. ‘I love you, I love you,’ you are always blathering the words – but what the fuck do you think they mean?”

I shake my head, spilling my wine over the front of my shirt. Tears are pouring down my face.

“I suppose I don’t know,” I murmur lifelessly.

She comes forward to take my glass, then dashes it down against the stones. Broken glass skitters everywhere.

“Do you trust me?” she asks.

“Yes,” I whisper, looking dumbly into her ice-blue eyes.

She kisses me, sucking with her lungs, drawing the entirety of my soul from my body. Then she lowers her mouth to my neck, more vampire than elf, and drains the blood from my veins.

“You silly humans,” she whispers, patting my cheek with her warm hand. “You do not know what love is.”

My last sight is of her bright white dress, slithering away from me, as I fall down to the cold, bloody stones.


Waiting for the last breath

Waiting for the last inhalation

Even more exciting

The last exhalation

I’ve felt my heart go wonky

But I wonder how it will feel

When it goes still

Leaving the confusion behind

Leaving the mystery behind

Content not to understand

What others thought

Content not to comprehend

What I couldn’t accomplish. 

The Ghost of Me

Strange visions passing before my eyes

Odd lines between fantasy and responsibility

I drag between sunup and sundown

I see no reason to keep fucking dragging

On and on and on

Waiting for miracles that don’t happen

Waiting for answers that don’t come

I lag behind on obligations

I forget what made me ME to begin with

I cut the skin, just to watch it bleed

But it makes such a fucking mess

I forgot what a mess it makes

I guess it’s been a while

I try to type but the words don’t come

My soul feels dry

Dry like a bone in the desert sun

Thirsty for water that’s nowhere in sight.