Capitulation in Three - April 03, 2008

[Note: For all intents and purposes this is fictional.]

[1]

I did trust you before you reduced me to the object of your drunken lust. I did trust you before your pushing aggressive hands held me down beneath you; before I could blink and see the fire flaring in your glossy glassy eyes. And, I did trust you before it all ended.

And then I was reborn into distrust; into guilt; into shame.

I'm waking with blood in my mouth from my lungs. I'm waking with skin under my nails and dirt on my hands. I'm choking on the thick, dirty musk of your exhalations on my face. I'm choking on the dry dust of this dark hollow tomb where I lie--where its cold-- where I wait and try unsuccessfully to die.

[2]

Today she looked up at the raining screaming sky and blinked her dark and empty hazel eyes. Exhale. And, in the morning she closed the door behind her turning her empty soul and body to the long obstacle ridden road ahead of her. Inhale.

This surrounding conglomeration of innumerable adventurous beings rotates counterclockwise around her aching arching mind that fights to stay on path; that fights to not give up.

Writhe. Exhale. Inhale. Vacuous and vacant. Continue.

[3]

On the carpet I'm watching as the sun flits its fickle form across the strings that restlessly lie out of place waiting to move. The cloud cover moves and morphs in front of sunlight above my window--below heaven. The mother spider carries her young upon her back and they squirm to reach her belly with their stringy discolored yellow legs.

And the cloud covers the sun. It covers the sun.