For years, I fought. I studied. I worked. I tried. I cried. I broke. I picked myself up. I tried again. I fought some more. I studied and studied till the dawn woke the birds. I worked and worked till darkness fell. I learnt what they could teach me. I taught myself what they could not. I pushed myself again and again. Year after year. When I fell, I got back up. When I broke, I healed. When they said stop, I refused. For years, I fought. And I achieved what I sought.
But it wasn’t worth it.
Warm, supple, caramel toned flesh flawless in untroubled youth. Lips graze seductively over the sweet skin, dampening against the fine layer of perspiration. A dead weight to hold, lying limp in strong, capable arms. While the mind strays in a land of dreams, the body remains trapped in a fatal nightmare. With the mercy of day break hours away, the teeth are free to roam vunerable places, protected by a shroud of darkness. The flesh is pierced and cold lips latch around the wound, not a drop is misplaced, lost, wasted. Every mouthful savoured, cherished. Delectable, delicious.
The pages gleam white in the midday sun. Their emptiness frustrates me. My mind swims with ideas and stories and yet, the only action my hand can manipulate from my pen is the clicking of its top. There was a time when the words would flow in a constant stream, an unstoppable tidal of messy scrawl to break up the white. Over time the scawl would be refined, each word purposfully chosen. How I had loved the feel of my pen travelling back and forth, the act of creating new worlds on paper for people to explore. Alas, times change.
Spirit
You needed me, you called me, begging for my aid. But I am to far away; to far to run to your side. Continents separate us; oceans and miles. I would walk to you if I know I could but for the moment I am needed here. I will have to trust in your strength, trust that you have it in you to hold on. For the time being I am with you in spirit if not in body. When you feel trapped close your eyes and think of me, I will be with you in spirit and in heart.
Fun
‘Come on, it will be fun.’ He looks at you with pleading eyes, he really wants you to be there. There’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, parties have neer been your scene. But that look in his eyes is hard to ignore. The base of the music hammers through the floor, vibrating up your bones. The lights and dim and everyone is committing one sin or another.
‘Here, try this.’ He hands you a glass, you swallow its contents and the room spins. He grasps your arms as your legs weaken considerably. ‘Let’s go have some fun.’
Reach
It’s there, staring at you, taunting you from across the room. You lie in the secure comfort of the blankets, deliberating your next move. The images flashing across the television set are not pleasing, but the means of changing them lie just out of reach. To move from this spot would inevitably destroy the level of comfort you have created. Alone in the room you lie and think over your choices, deciding that to remain still would surely lead to intense boredom; the current programme being so dull. All the while the remote sits and laughs, just out of reach.
Shine
The sun begins to sink, like a deflated balloon, down beneath the distant hills. The sky starts to blush a bashful pink before it melts into a midnight blue. The darkness surrounds everything, hiding the world in its black ink. It darkens and darkens until , one by one, pins holes appear through the blackness. Slowly they appear until the sky is filled with millions of tiny lights. It is not so dark now, a soft light has fallen over the world like a mothers gaze. Joining with the glow of the moon the stars gaze down and shine.
Rhythm
At first it was all just noise. Constant and loud, screaming through the glass of my window so that not even the curtains would shut it out at night. My eyes, my body, my mind; all so tired from the noise, the bustling that refuses to be still, refuses to be silenced. But slowly, ever so slowly the commotion becomes a beat which soon becomes a rhythm. It hums away like a lullaby, singing me to sleep. Reassuring me that the world outside is still turning. Finally I fall asleep, my heart beating to the rhythm of the city.
Encouragement
The roar of the crowd, the thunder of their hands coming together in a loud, passionate rendition of applause. I live for that applause, for that moment when the audience are on their feet, begging for more; encore, encore! The hours of practise, blood, sweat and tears, it’s all for this moment. From the second I step out on the stage I am in bliss. This is what I was made for, this is what I was destined to do. And that moment, seeing them all on their feet, that is all the encouragement I need.
Light House
My tears have created an ocean. My fear churns the water into stormy waves. I lie in my little boat being tossed from side to side, each new wave threatens to tip me over, throw me into the dark depths. I know it is only a matter of time before I am fed to these monstrous waves. Then, through my darkness, there is hope. You draw closer and closer; calming my waters, pulling me to shore, guiding me around my rocks of self-doubt. You take my hand; my saviour, my light house.
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