Coffee and Moonshine

Make mine a huge with a double shot of espresso, no make that a triple, and give me soya milk with extra foam and a truckload of chocolate sprinkles… oh and throw in a shot of moonshine while you’re at it. Yeah I know it’s not on the menu but I seen you take a swig out of that jar under the counter there. Don’t blame you neither. Think I’d do the same if I had to deal with a hundred of the likes of that douche in a suit you was just serving. That is pretty much why I’m asking for you to be an angel and throw one in my coffee. It’s been one of those days and it’s not even 9:30. I still got to get through eight more hours of douches in suits tell me what to do and how to do it and would I please smile and put on some lipstick cos we got customers to keep happy and no one likes looking at a glumpy guts. Thanks darling, you’re a peach!
Say haven’t I seen you before? No, not here, somewhere else. You ever been to a little club called the bluefish? You know which one I’m talking about? You do? Oh that’s good to know. So, you know what, I got a good feeling about you. Here’s my number. Give me a call if you ever wanna hang out and commiserate about stuff.

Wow, I am so happy you called! Honestly I wasn’t sure you would cos I thought maybe you get hit on all the time and maybe you were just being polite and all, but here you are, calling me up! So, I was thinking of going to the club later on. You wanna join me for a drink? Oh wow, dinner at your place before hand, that sounds great! Yeah, I’m free. I’ll be there at 7, you text me the address and I’ll be there.

Oh my Lordy I am so nervous all of a sudden. Just get it together honey. It’s just dinner and some dancing at the club and yeah sure she’s cute as a button and you are too and sure you are thinking all sorts of naughty thoughts but you need to really meet the girl first before you jump into… well anything. Ok so what are we wearing. Shall I go with black. That’s safe right. Or maybe the electric blue cos I am feeling all charged up! Hahaha, ok just chill sweetie. Maybe a little more casual. The soft blue dress to the knee. Not too sexy but not too safe neither. After all it’s not just her personality I’m interested in and I’m hoping that feeling is mutual.

Hi there! Yeah sorry I’m a bit early. Traffic was lighter than I expected. Oh looks like I am not the only one here (thank god I went for the less sexy dress). Oh these are your parents, and this is your… husband? Oh really, that’s um, ok, right I think maybe … shit … oh sorry, um you know what I think I left something in my car, my phone, yeah I just need to go and check that out sorry. I just really need to go. Um why is the door locked? Sorry? What was that about Jesus. What did you call me?! Oh hell no. I am perfectly happy just the way I am thank you. I do not need saving. Tell your brother to take his hands off of me! Holy shit I will scream blue murder.

Fire fire fire!

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Anticipate

I want to live
I want to die
I want to live
I want to die
Peeling petals seems as good a way as any to decide

Years of emotions, as waves they rise
to crest so high that when they crash
on grating shore
the corpses of shells strip skin

They bend the rules
They break your back
They bend the rules
They break your back
It’s really not so difficult to anticipate that

Rollercoaster twisted steel and
bony cages for my limbs
Rattling close to the edge now
One more crack and I’m in.

 

via Daily Prompt: Anticipate

 

Rainbows and cyanide

Every story I tell myself begins with a question, but today I am all out. There’s just a sense of void. A hole in my head and my heart. A need to fill it with something, anything. I wander through a litany of past vices looking for an old familiar tingle that might tell me what I want. Nothing trips a switch. Something new then. Something I have never done but always wanted to.

That is how I end up on this ledge. Twenty stories up and the wind is pretty fierce. I look straight down at the street. It’s not quite dark but the streetlights are on already. I can make out small hurried specks zipping along the sidewalks and little coloured rectangles zooming between them on a graphite ribbon. Reminds me of those videos of electrons, or was it microbes? Tiny tiny lives. Micro reflecting macro, or vice versa, depending on the size of your ego.

My ego is huge, but unhappy. All those dreams that blew up and away from my grasp. All the life I could have had if I’d just let go for three seconds. I try to count the number of people I think would miss me and come up with a very small number. Barely a handful. So this is really it. The famous existential crossroad. And here is my question. Do I step back and retrace my steps – the very definition of insanity – hoping for a different outcome? Do I go left or right? Or do I take one step forward and hope for the best?

A light rain falls and I can see a hundred tiny rainbows beneath the lamps down near the street. I giggle and step forward and… I don’t fall. My feet slap against the side of the building and I am walking down the side of this highrise as if I had magnetic feet and the word was all metal. The rain falls on my perpendicular limbs like a hundred tiny pins with blunt edges. My hair hangs down beside my ears like a crazy punk do all out of whack. Gravity still works but not on my feet, which just keep walking, one in front of the other, towards those little rainbows and the damp stone blocks. No one looks up, which kind of bugs me because this is pretty awesome. But I don’t want to yell about it either, because that would be so uncool. I walk all the way down and hop lightly onto the pavement. Like Audrey Hepburn on a Sunday afternoon, I walk back into my building and take the elevator up to my floor. Back in my apartment, grinning like a schoolgirl, I make a cup of chamomile tea with a dash of cyanide. I leave the front door unlocked.

Cringe

What makes you cringe? Is it the idea of spiders crawling over your face in the middle of the night and the fact that people keep telling you that urban myth about the 3 or 4 specimens that walk into your snoring maw in the dead of dark and wander down your throat? For them it is silence. Not all silence, mind you. Put them on a mountain in the middle of nowhere and they will sleep like a baby. No, they mean the silence between two people who cannot talk to each other anymore. There they sit, in a room surrounded by the cacophony of life. Each looking over at the other at the precise moment that the other one looks away. Each wanting to say a thousand things, but like some writer’s block, they can’t get their lips to part and utter the words. Both too afraid of what might come out. Both too afraid that whatever comes out will mean a change. Neither of them wants a change, but they know it cannot go on the way it is.

One gets up and moves into the kitchen. The white elephant lumbers after them and waits patiently while the kettle boils. The other remains in the living room, too afraid to follow, to afraid to stay there. What do you do with your hands when your life is collapsing? Is it rude to look at your phone? Maybe that’s the best thing to do.

A question comes from the other room. Something mundane about milk and sugar. You mumble a response, automatic words, hollow sounds that give commands but say nothing of intent. You pull up a page on world events. Burying yourself in the misery of others is so much easier than dealing with your own. The screen deflects the reality in this space and gives you an escape clause. How can someone get mad at you when you care so much about others?

The other returns. A cup is placed carefully in front of you. You barely look up to acknowledge it. Mumble thanks and carry on reading. The silence drags on for days.

Sunday

It’s raining frogs in Avalon

And all the mist is blue

The cards don’t kiss and tell my love

They only speak to you

The symbols are so few my dear

The pathways known to divagate

And tumble down the rabbit holes

And throw around their pretty weight

And so I sit with dusty lips

And wait upon your truth

The magic has all gone now

The signs all stand as mute

Bloodline

He plucked her from one
Bound her to another
By name or by proxy
His lash still stings

All for the best
Stay together for the kids
But mommy knows better
His whip still sings

Here in the dark
She’s safe from the screams
This circle of salt
Her blood drawn ring

 

Eight for eight tag

Tagged by @hungrysheepbookshop

▪️last movie I watched: the Huntsman: Winter’s War. Totally over the top but it tickled all my favourite places. It has magic and evil queens and Charlize Theron. What is not to like?

▪️last song I listened to: Riverside, Agnes Obel. Beautifully understated.

▪️last book I read: A Darker Shade of Magic by VE Schwab – the first in a trilogy which I am definitely going to finish. Currently rereading American Gods so I can complain when the TV series diverts from the plot 🙂

▪️last thing I ate: A banana

▪️where would you want to time travel to? The court of King Cnut around 1018. I think he’s responsible for the Beowulf poem and this would help me prove it.

▪️fictional character I would hang out with for a day: Morgan Le Fey from Mists of Avalon

▪️if I could be anywhere right now, where would I be? Iceland. Same as Ms Hungry Sheep

▪️current fandom obsession? Can’t really think of one but I am rather obsessed with Norse and Celtic mythology so anything related to these two things will get my attention.

I tag @behind-the-sun @bekkathyst @commongoodbooks-blog @eloisajames @gobookyourself @indigoire @jenniferdewalt @leafsea @neil-gaiman @quaintobsessions

Temptation

Tempt me
Tempt the temptress
I sit here
Leggy, scantily clad and bored
The hours pass and get hotter,
Do you not see me?
Look at me
Enjoy me
Take me
But you are too busy to notice my eyes
too busy to notice my fire
You dont notice
that my hand has moved
down

The Good Shepherd

Shiver cold in blinding sunlight,
Conceal the demon, strip him bare,
Heal the wound to cut it open,
Leave him bleeding on the stair.
Take this creature, rip his wings off,
Splintered sinner, one who cared,
With the page torn, truths are shattered,
Behind the lies I see you stare.
With the crown broke, the mask is bleeding,
Struck in two, the laws of shame,
Hide your guilt well, it is your calling,
To shepherd sheep without a name.