Drops rush down my skin, and burn, despite the low temperature. Sand swirls towards the drain. I try to recall the colour of her eyes, her charming voice, as we talked on the rooftop. But all I see is terror, drawn across her face like a hideous mask. And then that smile of defeat, just before she closed her eyes.
I slam my fist against the tiles, and welcome the pain I deserve. We should have met sooner. We could have have avoided pulling triggers in the dead of the night...
Haar ogen bekijken je kalm en afwachtend. Wist je maar wat ze van jou dacht. Een idioot, een rare? Een stamelaar? Je komt niet uit je woorden. Je wil een duizend dingen zeggen, maar weet er alleen maar korte antwoorden uit te persen. En wanneer je eindelijk wat weet, bedenk je je midden in de zin dat dit het stomste is wat je had kunnen zeggen, en nu beter je klep kan houden. Dus laat je de zin doodbloeden tot een gemompel dat nergens meer op slaat. Ben je hiervoor al die jaren naar school geweest en heb je zelfs letterkunde gestudeerd? Om er uit te zien als een lul die stottert en zijn middelbare school niet eens af heeft gemaakt. Misschien
You wish for me to speak to you
but have you not heard me?
I sang to you
when you went to bed
but you just rolled to your other side.
I whispered in your ear
as you crossed the street
but you quickly waved my voice
away
with a useless grocery list.
I shouted
in the shower
as your drove your car
while you ate your lunch.
I shouted
until I couldn't any more
my throat aching
eyes burning.
Each time you cast me aside
as if my presence and words
are only unclean air
Maybe I will just stop speaking
forever and watch you
get lost in your darkness
biting your nails
staring at the blank page
the pen trembling in your hand
in sheer frustration.
...
"I'm afraid, Misha," Otto said to me a while back. His blue eyes looked at me for answers.
I wanted to say something to comfort him, but what can you say to a dying man..
"I know," I said meekly and looked at the window, trying to find distraction with the flickering lights ahead.
"I don't mean like that," he sharply said, with some strength back in his voice, though it was still the sound of a body crying out in pain. "In the past a man could die in peace. Now he has to concern himself about what happens to his mind afterwards."
He glanced away with an expression of discomfort, which wasn't caused by the pain. I knew he had always had hi
Diep van binnen kruipt het omhoog.
Met zijn scherpe klauwen
Raast hij langs mijn ribben
Begeleid door het ritme van mijn hart.
Mijn adem zit vast in mijn keel
Haast verstikkend
Zal het me slopen?
Of laat hij me heel?
Ik hoor het gelach van onder
Ze slopen het plezier en mijn wonder
Dan plots zijn hand op mijn schouder
En mijn lichaam steeds killer en kouder
Al fluisterend spreekt hij me toe:
"Ga eens slapen ben je nog niet moe?"
En dan zie ik hem met zijn grijns en grijze ogen.
Ooit in vertrouwen genomen maar steeds bedrogen
Slechts een reflectie van wat ik ben.
Is het enigste echte monster dat ik ken.
Ik sluit mijn ogen en doe mijn we
How Couldst Thou But Know me by Alaersu-Aetris, literature
Literature
How Couldst Thou But Know me
How couldst thou but know me
When thou only gazed upon my skin
And not the rampant world I hide,
That is growing deep within.
Thou haven’t heard the creaking of my ribs
Behind each plaited vine.
Or bathed beneath the deluge
That showers down my spine
Thou’ve not been here for long enough
To watch a new life start
Or find the pillaged ruins
Lying just within my heart.
Thou haven’t climbed the branches
Which are wrapped around each lung.
Swaying rapidly with the breezes
That come dancing past my tongue
Do not blemish me with your footprints
If you plan to leave me soon
And only wish to know me.
When my trees are all in bloom
B
I’ve never turned down a job. Professional integrity, and all that. But even so, when I saw the name in the file, I cringed. At some point in every man’s career, he gets that job he knows is going to make or break his name.
I’d been using this name for a while now, and it had started to get a decent rep behind it. People knew me. Not my face, obviously. I was smart enough to use wigs and contacts; prosthetics, if I had to. A face was too damn valuable, and not so easy to change. Especially if you didn’t go in for all that cosmetic surgery stuff.
But names? Names were easy. Names were shoes that you could slip on and
I glanced over your writings and liked it so far. I'll get to a more detailed read somewhere in the near future, but I figured this was the best way for me not to forget you.