Beast of God

I am that beast who made her way to you. My fur is black and my eyes glistening red. My teeth gleam perfect white and my claws are unmatched by your swords of nobility. I lie down at your feet in a bristling mass of growling temptation. I am never true.

I shift like tremors under your skin. A mountain of black fur moving like an ocean. Twisting into impossible positions but never taking my eyes off of you. I hunger and am never full.

I lick your leg like an adoring pet. I have seen the gates of hell where I loved demons with many heads and grotesque limbs. I have scoured the earth and heavens for tasty morsels of fleshy children. I have shoved my head under the hand of God and purred in his lap.

I am under every frightened child's bed. I run wild through dark razor-sharp thickets. I howl at the moon for her lost love. I tear the meat from the hunter and bath in his screams. I terrorize villagers and make off with virgins. I fear nothing and have been here since the world began.

Never trust that I am not hungry for you. Do not lay your hand upon my head with the assumption that I will not bite you. Do not mistake my growling for affection. Do not turn your back on me because, my friend, you look very appealing and I do not worry about biting the hand that feeds me when I am oh so hungry...

Dark Lover

"I like the way you smile when you hurt me," he said as he rolled over on to his stomach. All ready the teethmarks where I had bitten his neck were turning a satisfying purplish red. I swung my legs over his hips and pressed the length of my body down his naked back.

I snaked my hand along his scalp and grasp a clump of hair. I pulled his head back and traced my tongue up his neck until I was whispering in his ear, "You like everything I do to you."

"Have you always been this sadistic?"
"Of course, you were simply too afraid to see what I really was before now."

I slipped my hand around his neck to keep his head back where I wanted it and sunk my teeth into his shoulder. He yelped in a mock horror which quickly faded to a muffled moan as I squeezed my hand on his throat. He bucked underneath me. Finding himself unable to throw me, he began to shudder as I licked the wound I had created. I pressed my hips harder against him, my excitement rising with every attempt to evade me and at every whimper escaping his lips.

I ran my tongue down his spine careful to keep my grasp upon his throat, tightening it every time he twitched at my touch. When I reached his hip, I bit down again. This time he screamed but did not move as my hand on his throat continued to tighten. He had learned the game quickly and was fast becoming my favorite playmate. How could I not enjoy someone with skin that bruised so easily?

I moved quickly now. Darted my way up his body, trapped his wrists beneath my knees and wrapped both hands around his throat and tightened. He let out a strangled gasp until I let him go with a sudden jerk. I turned him over underneath me and straddled him once again. I pressed my lips to his and kissed him until we were both gasping for air.

"Now we both have something to smile about. Hold still, my lamb. I've barely begun..."

Strangers

I have been kissing strangers. I have been sneaking up behind them and running my fingers through their hair until they turn. When they find themselves face to face with me I lean in... and I kiss them. And then I run away.

I run like the devil is chasing me. Like fire is licking at my heals. I run to keep distance with the insanity inside me. The neurosis vibrates at a quickening pace speeding up my heart whenever some hapless person dares venture too close to me. I lash out. I bite and kick and scream. And then I run away.

I have been keeping strangers in my bed. I pretend for a little while that I am a normal girl. That I can stand to have someone's skin so close to mine. I pretend that to feel their breath disturbing the air around me does not make me twitch. They get up to walk to the other room and I run. I run away.

I will run until my lungs collapse in on themselves like a foreign star trapped in the vortex of a distance galaxy. I will run until I can find a nice dark place to hide. And when a stranger's feet walk by I will snap at them with my teeth like a wild dog. I will claw at the ground until I can bury myself in a tunnel of my own distorted mind. And when I begin to scream at these prying eyes of strangers coming to peer in on this strange girl; maybe they will finally run away from me.

Victorian Embers

I lit a fire in the old stone fireplace. It sparked to life as the match hit the dry wood and the room was soon cast in a warm glow. I studied the room I now found myself standing in; this house had that Victorian dour looming over every part of it. Heavy velvet drapes covered the windows, ancient black and white photographs hung in ornate frames on every wall, and the mantle of the fireplace was crowded with trinkets and curios I imagined came from all over the world. Time weighed heavily on this place. I could feel the ghosts of two hundred years of family history swirling around me.

I settled into the ornate couch and drew my knees up to my chest. He had been following me through out the house as I explored every room of his family home like a tourist on a holiday. I was fascinated by every story. "See this photo here, this is my great uncle. He ran whiskey during Prohibition through the tunnels under this very house. And this painting, this was my great great great grandfather. Some said he had ties to pirates in the South Seas of the Empire and stole a princess bride from the island kingdom. And this, this is my great grandmother, she was a nurse in World War I. She met my great grandfather, who was a soldier, in a field hospital after he was wounded and fell in love with him. They were married in the garden outside."

I thought about my own history as I looked into his eyes as he sat across from me. The hundreds of years of family history that had been lost to me. My drunken father could barely remember his own name at times, let alone the tales of generations gone past. I felt new to the world. Like I had not existed before now, like the loss of all that history had disconnected me from the world and from my own past.

He moved closer to me and traced my fingers with his own before clasping my hand and lifting it to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss upon the back of my hand, his lips barely grazing my skin. I suddenly found myself thinking about my first kiss; a time when kissing was the most exciting thing in the world before all the complications of sexual expectations and grown-up responsibilities got in the way of a simple pure kiss.

To his shock, I suddenly slid into his arms and forced my lips upon his. I could feel the ghosts in the room pull back and begin to hum in the background. He fell into the kiss with ease and slipped one hand into my hair and the other to the small of my back so he could draw me closer to him. His kiss was so deep that I felt like I would get lost. That someone as unattached to this world as I was could get lost in a moment like this and never reappear again. I could just slip in between the cracks of this reality and become one of the ghosts swirling about the room. I could be trapped here forever to haunt his dreams like a wraith lost in all the dusty history caught in this dour Victorian landscape.

I drew back from his lips but not from his arms and studied his crystal blue eyes. The flickering light from the embers of the fire danced upon the terrain of his face as he smiled at me. The ghosts in the room now wrapped themselves around me like a thick quilt and began to sing in my ear. I lie against him as we entwined ourselves around each other like we were teenage lovers and pressed my ear to his chest. As I listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart I knew that soon I would know all the secrets of this ancient place and the ghosts would take up residence in my heart. Suddenly, I felt like I was home.

The Burning Theory

From the shore I watched the scene unfold.... And I hesitated.

Now she will not stop because I have failed and I can see the towers burning from here. She is my Kali, my destroyer goddess. The very air burns with her fury. They should have never turned their affections from her. Her rage has become tangible; I can breathe it in, taste it on my tongue. It is as bitter as ash that falls to the ground in a terrible flurry of torched flesh and cinder. She is my cinder goddess.

I hesitate. I stand on this shore frozen in my own dramatic inertia torn between my urge to return to the sea and to rush into her arms. Her terrible arms, that hold many swords and many severed heads. Her victims stare with slackened maws gaping at her bloodied hands holding all their pasts and futures like a crushing vice. She was their mother, their lover, and now she will be their destruction.

They should never have turned from her. Never have forgotten her awful beauty. They had once cowered in temples filled with lilies and chrysanthemums and the smoke of a thousand perfumed pyres; they had scraped their knees and soaked blood into her sacred ground. Her womb grew heavy with their seed and she rebirthed their world a thousand times; she fed the world with her own flesh, turned it, brought the sun to them, coaxed the crops from the ground, stood the moon still and filled the rivers with fish and bounty.

But they turned from her, they tore down her temple stone by stone and salted the earth with their ungrateful tears. One by one they forgot her silken skin and delicate feet. They lifted her veil of hair and toppled her idol from the center of every city. They grew indulgent and fat on their own importance. They forgot her. They forgot the horrible truth of her existence; her ability to turn the rain to acid with her kiss, the sharpened cruelty of her smile, her eyes burning since before the time of ancient gods, her hand upon every heart ever born into this world or the next.

I have been her lover for a thousand of a thousand years. I have lain in her many arms when the world was still. When the air dare not touch her for fear of its own death, I would slide my hands down her skin to the hum of her eternal songs. She would lay her swords aside to cradle me against her breast. I bore the stars for her to claim her love and laid kisses upon her brow to calm her troubled sleep. I folded myself to her chest and listened to the many heartbeats of the dieing dreams of a universe of crumbling civilizations. I ran my fingers in the miles of her flowing hair and drew her to me. I swore my eternal adoration and meant every word I uttered.

But now I hesitate on this endless shore because I know I have already failed. She slipped from me as they forgot her dark divinity; as they forgot just how much they needed her. I could not hold her as her rage grew no matter how hard I tried to soothe her with my gentle caresses. They have robbed me of her love. She will burn the world clean now with all the fire in her belly. The tremors of her wrath will be felt in the space in between every quivering sob and I will never lay in her arms again. She is destruction. My lover, she is destruction. And they will pay with flame and flesh and pain and suffering for ever being so bold and arrogant as to turn their backs on her terror and beauty. They have become the designers of their own deaths and the catalysts of my eternal loneliness and sorrow.

I turn away and hesitate as the towers burn down around me and the screams fill my ears across this sea of my great and terrible lost love. I lay my head in my hands and I begin to weep. I think that I shall never stop.

Fury in Love

I am slow with you. Like poison. Every move is deliberate; calculated. I am sliding into your veins. Even from this distance with another woman asleep beside you; you can feel me pulling at you. Pushing behind your eyelids. Pulling at your strings. Come on, little puppet, dance for me.

I am a quiet killer. An assassin in your dreams. You try to rise up, angry, and you try to scream. You want to stop me but I have destroyed all of your predecessors. What makes you think you will succeed where they have failed?

Can you see the demon inside me? This thing that has taken me over and replaced every spot of light and love that ever existed behind my eyes? My own anger rose so high and my hatred became so acid that the demon found me. I had been waiting for it all along. It knew where I was. It could feel me pulsing under the weight of my own rage at ever allowing you to enter me. Letting you in again and again to try and kill me with your slippery smile and soft words. The demon invaded me through every pore of my body until it infected the very cells of my being moving along the pathways the hate had laid down in my heart. It made me what I am. I am monster. I am damage. I am Fury.

Weep for what you have made me. Quiver on your knees at the realization that this weapon I hold has your name upon it as I have your name upon my lips. Know that I have given up my humanity to become this for you. I will bury my love in you up to the hilt. I will kiss the blood from your lips. And I will hold you as you die because I still love you and everything that I ever was is dieing with you.

It was all just a dream...

I was dreaming about you last night. You kept showing up in all the places of my secret mind; the lake by the highway, the apartment where I had never been, a park I think does not really exist. You were there. You were mysterious and brooding like when we were young. You had a long black coat on and your hair was blue and black. I think you were waiting for me but I was never going to be able to reach you with all these obstacles in my way. I knew someone else (someone prettier and thinner than me) would find you and draw you away before I could ever make my way to you. Why does this highway never end? Why are you always walking away? If I scream will I wake up?

I've been having nightmares. Every night I dream I am in a darkened room and I desperately need the lights on. I can feel something in the dark waiting for me. Waiting to reach up and grab me. Something bad is going to happen in all this darkness. I try every light in every room. They glow and flicker for a moment and die. I'm still in the dark and I can see faces peering at me illuminated from somewhere under the skin. I know they are ghosts. Who are you the ghosts of? Why are you here? To distract me from the mass of arms and hands reaching up behind me to drag me down? Where is the head of this many limbed monster? I want to tear it off so it will stop clawing and grabbing at me. But even when I get it's sharped-toothed head between my thighs and dig my fingers into its neck and twist and the flesh tears away until I holding it's monstrous form in my hands-- all those arms still grab at me; choking me, dragging me. Where are they dragging me? I scream for my mother and wake up.

Tonight I am in a very old house. It's Victorian form looms over me. It twists and turns and the walls change as I pass from corridor to corridor. This place is shifting; breathing, living. At the top of a stairway that wasn't there before I find a haunted room. I can feel the spirits twisting around me; disturbing the gossamer curtains covering the windows that cast the room in a filmy light. Did you die here? Or did I die here?

Maybe it is you who is haunting me. Sending me these dreams to invade my mind so I will never sleep again. I will become a waking dream walking through an enveloping fog in the really real world. I will be the ghost. People will pass through me with a dim recollection of touching something soft; something warm. I will run my hands through their minds. Touch their memories. And stream my fingers through their hearts. Whatever is coming to pull me down will grasp at my feet and my shoulders and will find itself passing through mist. It's many arms will mean nothing.

But it's still waiting for me. It's eyes are glowing red. It's hiding in my dark room. Please turn the lights on. I need the lights on.