Poison apple

I stared at the sanitised white plastic of the bedside table through metal bars of the bed.  A few simple things scattered the surface: a glass of water, my phone and oddly a small part-rotten apple. 

My eyes glazed over it, flickering slightly; a half way point between asleep and awake.  I wanted to reach out and touch it for reasons I couldn’t fathom but my body was still too weak to allow it. 

The entire ward was silent; sleep had crept through the bodies around me.  A sense of peace washed over me as my eyes sealed in sleep. 

Small dainty feet crept across the table towards the piece of fruit.  It sat and waited.  The once seemingly small object was now towering over me; truly huge.  I ran a fingertip down the surface: soft and rubbery, wrinkled like that of old skin.  The apple was ill, sick, poisonous to all those around it. 

I watched as if from above as my small character dug a long set of fingernails into the gentle flesh, scratching away the tough yellow-green skin. 

Looking down on her as she pulled limb from limb – opening the wound; spreading the pain till juicy blood ran to a pool at her feet. 

I saw her as she buried herself into the rotten fruit and tried to escape to the core.  Then, and only then did I being to feel.  I felt the flesh engulf me; I looked up at the person watching, a simple nod of acceptance was all I needed to continue. 

I dug, I scraped, I buried and I scratched my way through.  A low, delicate golden light glowed through the tunnel of soft white walls; inviting it was. 

Finally I found it, the core of the apple.  The core of the universe mapped out by the seeds in the shape of a pentacle. 

Slouching, I curved my spine to fit the wall gazing around at all I had discovered. 

My skin was glowing, a light of health and radiance.  Here, I was free from disease, free from the cancer that ate at my body; free from the poison that slithered in the blood about my veins with every beat.  Eyelids growing heavy, the fluttered as my eyelashes met my cheeks. 

Merely seconds later my eyes were wide; staring out at the cold white room.  Glancing across at the table I saw a clean, crisp, fresh apple; reaching out to touch the smooth, hard surface.  It was good enough to eat. 

Thats quite enough

I have given up.  I am falling down.  I have lost hope.

Close to you:

Laying with my body close to yours; I touch your warm, light skin.  Loving you with my delicate touch; a whisper of connection. 

Your stare – blank and cold. 

No longer the person you thought she was. Yes, you can watch me as i step out of this hard, icy clay mould.  Her fingers and limbs struggle to bend, brittle bones having being set for so long. 

I understand that you are confused.

Confused as to why I do not fit into a category. 

Confused as to why I do not let you win. 

Its not my style, its not me.  I have fought nearly everybody in my world so far.  Fought for my freedom. Fought to be myself.  Fought to conceal weakness.  I am not going to give that up for you, or even to be with you.  I don’t want to fight you.  Not now.  Not ever.    

I will never be moulded; you will never succeed.  I am no object of perfection.  I am better; I am human. 

rain dance

I dance, swirling and spinning, arms outstretched, fingers wide, palms sweating.  I can feel a beat, my beat, blood pumping through my body, driving me, beating, pulses through my body, wrists throbbing.  My feet pound on the hard ground, still warm from the day’s sun.  The field, my field is empty, all except for me. 

My feet; becoming raw from the movement, faster I go.  My body is calling from me, liberation and freedom, the earth is rejecting me, burning my feet and cutting my skin.  Thorns and grasses grab at my ankles, twisting around them, gripping and tearing.  Jumping higher, further from it all, everything, it could all just disappear; mind over matter.

Body jolting, I look up, feet rooted to the ground, I stare upwards, up at the clouds, heavy and expectant, it’s coming, I can feel it; soon.  Yet still I’m waiting. Eyes clamping shut, agony at trying to keep them wide any longer.  Warm, still air, is sticky.  Sweat dripping down my skin, limbs agitated, needing what is about to come.  Spinning, the world is lost in swirls, grey, bleak colours blend together in one almighty hurricane emotion. 

I can do anything, anything at all, if only I could believe those words, believe I needed so much to feel. Would it really make any difference though? 

(8) shut your eyes(8) – snow patrol 4:14pm

A gift; it glowed like a light on water, reflecting and spreading.  My  emotions and thoughts; the weight that had been clinging to my shoulders.  Anger that had clawed at my insides.  Pain that had echoed throughout my skull.  I took another step across the plains of space; the openness – a blessing in disguise. 

My feet were light on the soft ground; my body moved smoothly, elegant footsteps the previous rigid movements disappearing with every step.  Beginning to stumble, my legs were weak, yet I carried on – needing to be there. 

I sat in the shadow that was waiting for me having ran the last few steps.  I sunk down: damp cool grassy ground.  As my body made contact with the earth; i cried.  I bought my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my hands.  Reasons were beyond my reach.

I no longer needed anything, except... this. 

I cried like a child in sobs of pain.  I wanted to scream for help but I knew nobody would hear.  So I continued to sit in pain and anguish. 

As I began to calm I stared around at the beautiful place, feeling each word as I wrote.  I know this place; it’s the place I left my heart when I didn’t know what to do. It’s the place I can find my heart when I don’t know where to go. But; somehow when I am here, I am the heart.  Purely the heart beating at the centre of the universe with nothing else to hurt me.  Nothing. 

As my body began to grow cold I still did not move; I still wanted to sit in my place in the world.  The place where I belonged. 

Thoughts of leaving, dropping my bags, the weights on my soul, my life.  Wanting to run, leave it all behind and never come back.  I want my legs to carry me, carry me far, far away, where I cannot be found ever again. 

on the way (Thursday 3:54pm)

Slowly my feet move one after another, gradually taking me to the place I need to be.  The place that will let me feel and stop my pain; for now.

A small ramp, a slippery slope.  A gentle, cool mist settling in the midst of the warm air.  Icy winter sun settling on my shoulders spreading through the trees as I look for the clearing.  Finding that special place is always just as wonderful as the first time was. 

Gentle sounds: pencil on paper, quiet music setting a beat in my bones as I walk.  Occasional mutterings of memories; a safe place if there ever was one.  With each step, each beat, emotion builds in my through and eyes.  Heavy in the serene beauty of sunlight through the trees. 

Every detail: each leaf, twig, insect, grain of soil, glisten of light, blade of grass, patch of moss, shapely shadow. Each detail captures me, makes me linger a little longer; take it all in. 

The trees thinned, the golden glow of our place glowed through.  A glimmering gold through the browns and greens and reds of the coming winter; there it was.  Magical.  The space stretched out in front of me, pointing me in the right direction...

Your beatiful words.

I melt into the ground by your beautiful words.  My body is made weak by you. I feel a pull through the rubble and fallen bricks; a magnetic impulse towards you.   The walls around me once so strong, and tall.  I was safe from you, and I was safe from me.  

But now, the earth beneath me cracks, trembling with emotion and fear that’s surging through my veins.  Overwhelming and empowering, blissful and terrifying, I wait and breath as the dust settles. 

As the walls were falling my body shook, quaking with the pain that came alongside my fear.  As I sit in the wreckage, I am helpless, completely at your mercy; the one place I vowed never to be.  I hand it to you, my heart on a silver platter, it is yours. 

I kneel and pray, curving my body over and resting my head on the cold stone of the earth.  I hope and beg that you will guard this precious gift; it is once again new and fresh.  You may think I would hand out such a precious item easily; I have never given it up like this. For you, I will hold out my hand willingly; the trust in you, I feel. 

When you talk to me, your voice, beautiful, soulful and honest; it falls though my body soaked up by every cell.  Word after word I listen.  To the gushings of these words I bow, honour in your presence.

Delicate.

 For you I would stay in the darkness.

Such a delicate creature.  Special and unique; you are.  Undeniably so, indeed.  I sit across from you, and I want to show you.  Poor out my soul with words of magic and beauty to make you see there is no need to run.  But; now I understand a butterfly is a cowardly creature and as it flits and floats so elegantly across the sky, he is scared.  He does not trust. 

I would not hurt such a beautiful creature as this though.  A butterfly floats past me; dancing, catching my eye – on the breeze.  Light wings flimsy and ornate – unique; undeniably so.  The creature comes close to me, close enough for me to touch, close enough for me to feel the wonder of its aura. 

However; as soon as he gets so close he flitters away, floating on the breeze once again.  For if he were to stay close enough for too long; I could crush and destroy his delicate body, tear his wings and emotions to shreds, rip apart his beautiful soul with my poisonous fingers.  This butterfly has learnt not to trust.

To me the insect is special.  Perhaps you are unattainable, yes but never the less; beautiful.  When such a beautiful creature is in your presence, do you break her?