Words

These are longer. Well, obviously.

27th February 2010
One.

His eyes grow weary. His wrinkled face relaxes. The ward is deathly quiet. Deathly. All who would visit him had gone before him. And not one remained. Visiting hours past. Yet, the ward was noisy. Filled with cheering and merriment. The ward is empty, but it is not. Friends. Family. All waiting for him. Love in their eyes. His wife watches. Eyes sparkle emerald.

“I’m ready.”

They nod. He closes his eyes. His last breath. The sterile silence of the ward broken by a long, lone note. He gets off the bed, and falls into her arms.

He’s just so…

Tired.

Two.

His eyes snapped open.

It was bright.

Not the dark, cramped room he’d just left. Not five minutes ago. This room was empty. He felt no prescence at all. But, he was home. It was his house. His cottage. He didn’t remember much. Come to think of it, didn’t remember anything. Only he was immensely tired moments before.

It was bright.

And quiet. There was no sound. Save his slow steady breath. He wondered, that he used to find it hard to breathe. He examined his hands, expecting the calloused, wrinkled hands he remembered having, but they were missing. in their place, young, firm hands. Was this him? He wasn’t limping. Was this a dream? Had he just dozed off on the hospital bed?

It was bright.

Why? He peered out a window. Rolling hills and grass beyond the horizon. He was in the middle of nowhere. The grass slowly swaying in the breeze. Still quiet.

It was bright.

He strode to the door. And hesitated. He felt it. Behind the door. It was waiting for him. He felt odd. Fear, apprehension. Yet, love.

Gathering courage, he opened the door.

And smiled.

Three.

They were in the kitchen. Warm sunlight bathed the room. He walked to a cupboard, expecting tea. But there was nothing. Empty. All of them. He turns around and they stare. He blinks, and is tangled in her embrace. There is nothing else.

Joy.

Four.

It’d been a few days since he woke up. And he began to feel. To feel bored. She’d gone. And he was unhappy. No notice. Abrupt.

9th July 2009
Downplayed

He’s lost now.
Life’s like some terminal illness,
That wracks the body and mind with pain and thoughts of the end.
She’s like the periodic shot of morphine they give him.
Making him feel, content.
Then the effect ghosts away, leaving behind a desolate husk of a man.
Waiting as pain jars his mind back into the present, for the next shot.
Waiting, hoping.
His only wish, to erase the pain, leave this place of absolute shit.
Only two ways to do it. And drugs aren’t gonna last forever.
He waves farewell.
Rests well.
He is well.

 

Was about how there are people in life that make you feel like it’s actually worth the trouble of living.
But then the man realises these “drugs” can only keep him content for so long.
So he dies. To escape the problems in his world. And he’s happy, and cured of his depression.

9th July 2009
There’s Been A Disappearance.

Pain lashes out, stings rake my eyes, my chest. A crimson carriage bears my heart away, as I await my own departure. I run too fast, trip, stumble over my own feet to the grassy surface, peer over the edge. Crashing waves below. I breathe in, and for a moment, everything seems right, like I am supposed to do this. Then I breathe out, Despair and Sorrow join me at the edge. Whispering madness, doubts. I stop. They die, unable to leech anything from the closed shell I have developed. She’s replaced them. But as the sands slide through their glassy passage, she has come to replace the twins in their roles. Despair, sorrow now emnate from within what used to be my solace. I cannot stumble, I cannot show. It’s all trapped inside, for only me to know. Thank you for this sweet, sweet sorrow.

I tried, tried to kill her as well, but she proved much too seductive. I bend, bend, bend. Break? Another joins, to entice the girl. Away she staggers, toward this newcomer. Me? I cannot stop her. Battle plans. I make battle plans. He’s the Juggernaut, the Goliath, to my David. No desire for battle really enters, but I must, not to prove anything, but to again have her nestled again within, with her whispers of darkness, destruction, love? No, too much to ask for, when I think about what I’ve done.

The newcomer doesn’t budge, a rock is he, but a rock of the highest want. Expensive to mine, obtain. Useless otherwise. As to gold in jewellery so much loved by the canopy of society. Wealth beckons unto her. She succumbs. Grieved I stand. Salute. Walk into the air ahead. The craggy shelves whisper soft words of comfort as they float past my head. I hear wind, I hear waves. The rocks take me into their arms. Into their cold cold embrace. An embrace nontheless, is better than none.

Nobility, tolerance, to a fault. To death? I know even in death she will seek out my anima, ever ready to torment with her sweet spined tongue. He? As she passes into life, the rock stands broad atop the cliff. Now desolate. Now empty. But he remains. After all, he cannot move. Move. He could not move her, he cannot move himself. He is alone. But I, I am content. In the swirling dark, whispers caress my cheek. I have passed into the realm unknown. There is fire. There is pain. But she is here. You, you are here. And everything is alright again.

 I hear the waves break over my head, the day you left, I think I was dead.

This is one of my favourites. Derived from a dream I had I think. See if you can find the story in the retarded garble of words. It starts with a man, who trips and falls to the sandy ground, as someone he cares for is whisked away in a carriage. Imaginary people join him. They’re all in his head. He makes them “die” by ignoring the thoughts. A thought of someone else enters. Things progress, he grows more unstable. A “rival” enters the scene. The man doesn’t want to lower himself to the level where he has to compete with the stone man. So, in anguish he leaps off the cliff, to the caring whispers the rocks at the bottom offer him. Solace. Later, the stone man is left by the girl, who never had any real interest in him anyway, just curiosity. The girl searches for the man, and goes into the afterlife to look. She finds him and again tempts him. They enjoy the game, her tempting, he resisting. The stone remains upon the cliff. Slowy eroded and lost. Alone. T’was a tale of I don’t know. My experiences mixed with stories mixed with unhappy thoughts. And a touch of imagination here and there.