Monday, 21 April 2014

Work in progress

The first time was the hardest. And the easiest, when it came down to it. Like so many things, it started in a bar. Not a happy bar, no celebrations here. Wasn't a meat-market either. The only reason for this bar was to consume as much alcohol as you could, as quickly as possible. The rules are unwritten in these places, but strictly enforced. No trouble, ever. If you start anything, the enforcers step in. None of them ever licensed, but they could stand in for Godzilla in the right light.

I saw him, at the bar, drinking like his life depended on it. I guess it did though, in hindsight. In any case, I'd already watched him stalking the streets, shaking down the bums and cheap whores. I knew him. Not his name, but enough to get started. It was easy to sit there nursing my whiskey, if you were quiet then no one would ever bother you.

He wasn't hard to follow. Staggered a little, not surprising given how much he'd been drinking. I caught up with him in a nice quiet spot in the park. Enough light to see from the moon, but that was it. Bumped into him. Slurred an apology. Slit his throat.

It was messy. Noisier than I had thought, as well. But the park was big, and nobody comes running if they hear anything here. Quite the opposite.

I left him to bleed out in the moonlight, just kept walking. Didn't look like much. I can honestly say I felt nothing. No concern. In this town, unless you're a pretty white girl or have someone to push the case, an investigation just ain't happening. He'd go down on the books as unsolved, victim known to police, suspected drug deal gone bad. Christ knows, happens often enough. Just another statistic.

I also felt no joy. He meant nothing more to me than proof of concept. A test, if you will, of strategy and tactics. Some lessons to be learned. Improvements to be made. I can't even say I was grateful. Not for him.

Friday, 4 April 2014


He sits
Clutching his head again
The eternal pain
Stabbing behind eyes unseeing
As he stares into eternity
It is worse tonight
He is close
He must complete

Blinded by pain her reaches out
Hand guided by demon in head
Knowing he can only delay the inevitable
Yet willing to sacrifice his future
For the present
For relief

Grasping the knife he drags it back
Until deep red flows freely
Soothing, calming
He watches it flow, soaking into wood
Stained already
Splotched and coloured
Letting it flow freely

Slowly the pain recedes, is replaced
A moment of balance
Vision returning as movement fails
Grip lost, a clatter as blade falls
Slumping back he can see
Reaching down, tries to cover
His mind now clear, demon sated
He sees the truth, the pain not gone
Just shifted

Vision fading once more
He laughs
Present all that remains
Future lost now
He smiles and tries to salute his foe

The pain is gone

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

Journey Undone

I went on a journey the other day
Long and dark the roads traversed
I met a man, he had this to say
"Do not go further. This path is cursed."

I asked him to explain, to tell me more
But he just stood there in silence
I asked again, if he was truly sure
He stood and looked at me with defiance

So I continued on my journey
Walking down the cursed path
Telling myself that nothing would affect me
Feeling coldness clenching at my heart

I strode down the path, darkness falling fast
I saw a lady sitting on a rock
She didn't speak as I walked past
But looked at me and motioned to stop

Ignoring her I pushed into the dark
Where vines were choking the way
My shirt was torn, a wound above my heart
The blood flowed, I did not stop to stay

The path disappeared, lost in the night
I pressed forward, collecting wounds
For any thought at all, a hint that I might
Turn back, give up, was a loon

But came a point where could push no further
And wrapped in branches, I hung
Striving to free myself, so would not remain stuck here
Stubborn pride took me this far along

I remain there, hanging, to this very day
Cursing the choices that led me here
I should have listened to what he had to say
Instead I live in this nightmare


That eternal curse
That stirs emotions
Creates waves of feeling
Causes commotion

Bringing pain unimaginable
Sometimes unbearable
Slicing deep through barriers
Standing time immermorial

Some call a blessing
Knowing not what they say
Seeing not the true meaning
Hurt is the way

For this cursed blessing
Leading down slippery slope
To deepest pit of despair
The cursed hope

My Head

My head is not space
My head has no space
Filled with thoughts
Sometimes with pain
Sometimes with joy
But always full

My head is in space
Drifting freely 
Floating from point to point
Slowly freezing
Becoming set as thoughts slow
Held tightly

My head needs space
To expand and flow
To try

The Simple Task

The simple task impossible
The complex unimaginable
Even to start, to begin
The barriers too high
The moat too wide
So stay hidden
Unstarted is better than unfinished
Safety in hiding


Blood fills my vision
Slowly coating each surface
Gently caressing
Thick layer of red

Blood drips down
One drop at a time
Pooling in small sticky puddles
Drying slowly until
Blood drips down
Breaking the surface

Where has it come from?
Where does it go?
Why does it stay?

I move
Each step harder as the world drags at me
Each time slower
Wanting to give in
Refusing to stop
I move and become coated myself

Blood is my vision
A constant sea of red
Darkening slowly