Scrub-land

Upon first glance, I am separate

Quite banished

and free to swing wildly

from Heaven to Hell

All in between is a blur…

In rapid insignificance

on the same futile plane

A map is marked with crosses

A million crucifixes

Scattered ridiculously

Around coffin-shaped benches

No one in particular rests here (with absent breath)

Vital organs fall at invisible feet

And are picked up as carrion

By the ghosts of wings that are long since dead

Battered and more than a little broken

In unrestrained violence

It still echoes here

In screaming silence

Accompanied only by the muffled beating

Of a corrupted drum

If I should jump from this joyful motion

I fear the plummet into the landfill below

Would leave me aptly vacant

And … somewhat amenable (malleable?)

Friendly (at least) and gratefully free

To clear and swill the last heart beats

From scrub-land, once perfused with ambition

And I am blamed, unjustly, for my gentle touch

Naivety dusts the forms of desiccated ventricles

Littered in sweated rivulets upon arid ground

I see all I am responsible for

My sins tread a lonely path

Counted… slowly

From righteous lips

As my heart is the only one left to bleed

19-08-2012

Magpie

The shopping cart is empty and overflowing; rotting before we get it through the checkout. I think we should just buy vitamin pills and milky drinks and tell the kids that they’ll survive ok.

I’m chewing gum towards the exit, ignoring the cravings, staring ahead and I’m thinking about how much I want to fuck Duchovny these days, but it’s cool – we can deal with fiction.

We don’t need half-price anything, we’re done. We’re ready to sleep and lie down behind a slammed door again because it’s raining, finally.

The bags show more signs of decay before we can put them away. It’s already infiltrated with hormones and the Acute Mono-blastic crap that hurls itself from the pylons: The pylons that hum and vibrate dangerously in the rain. It keeps it all fat – and alive.

We eat the things that will last forever immediately – dried cherries and oatcakes. They’ll outlive us in our stomachs and stand up to the most rigorous pathological testing. I swallow lies while the truth deteriorates quickly in cold storage.

I don’t sleep. It’s a sin and a shame. I hear demonic voices and I can see the insides of my eyelids like the fires of Hell itself. This is an ancient map and we’ve been following it since dawn.

I refuse to recite a protection prayer that I don’t believe in. Flame - sparks - vomit and a projection of greed within an unholy sense of wanting. None of you could ever imagine, but I like to, over and over again. 

A magpie mind sees only winter rubies sparkling in the moonlight – flawless and softened.

I fail often, I am not clean.

White-out

Dark corners

Painted windows

Nothing

We need nothing

And want everything.

~ Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2011

emotional pain is my biggest fear

I am eternally damned creative

and bored of being head fucked

I dont want a pink cat

and oreo cake is too kitsch for my tastes

go retro amongst the fairy lights

and shut them all out

quote after quote jabs at the logic in my mind

but it’s all theory and no fucking practise

preaching, no better than a fervent sermon

spewed in bullshit on sunday mornings

and saturdays, after tea (always after tea)

I’ll go - but only after I’ve wrapped my head in red organza

and found my 6 inch heels

I put them here somewhere - a few years ago

Has anybody seen them?

You’re all full of shit

It’s boring to be fucked up

and it’s bland to be happy

and we don’t do middle lines here

we can’t understand them

so we argue in extremes always

and now I’m going to run

~ Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2011

I need to say that I don't love you
I haven't for years
Emotionally, I left all that time ago
You knew of course, busy with manipulation as always
and it seems like a conspiracy right now
Heart strings
Suffer for your children
Their tears
because daddy isn't home
but all they saw when he was home
was daddy's tears
because he couldn't cope with tying his own fucking shoe laces
I feel shit
I feel guilty
I should have stayed - chained and gagged
played like a puppet
hating you more with every breath
regretting the ties we have
resenting your stupid, pathetic face
everytime it appeared at my door
Happy?
You've all made your fucking point today
now fuck off

“Why are you leaving me?

He wrote, I do not know how to live.

I do not know either but I am trying.

I do not know how to try.

There were some things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. 

So I buried them and let them hurt me”

— Jonathan Safran Foer

Still

It’s a tall order; A to B; it’s a lark, a game 
Do you suppose it’s completely god-less? 
Of course it is - I think 
It seems so; endurance in enemies retreats 
and long, white lines of enlightenment 
You warned me they would be “missed” 
Another prophecy, told long after its truth 
Wayward and blowing across toilet seats 
in old and barren nightclubs 
It’s contrived 

Choose what to lose; before it’s gone 
Don’t break it down into smaller thinking pieces 
It needs to escalate; provoking wanted insanity 
amongst wandering tree-less happy homes 
Choose when to go; before you leave 
Don’t linger in unstable spaces too long 
Nothing is here; it’s all there 
inside real life, dying astral epics *laugh 

Seek out the trip; the one you want 
there is no stage - just a hidden quiet 
a silence - the moment before rapturous applause 
Take a bow; show your achievement 
it’s the same as yesterday - throw a six everytime 
you’re still on A; the largest square; the biggest whore 

A bargain, a short journey, a narrow slide 
backwards - returning to a womb that no longer feeds you 
[nor tolerates your crap - do you care?] 
Throw another, fill your mind; toxic escape routes inside 
and blissful dreams of sinking; lose it; you chose it well 
Tilt your head for a stranger perspective 
Throw it back for the want of your souls cry 
all within a room 
That looks just like so many others 


Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2010

Tears

"Why do you cry?" they asked

I cry because you asked me that question. I cry because your manipulation and ignorance knows no bounds. I cry because you ARE, in essence, the very thing that you despise and fight against. I cry because you project your self-hatred upon me. I cry because I am here, uninvited yet unable to leave, and you so callously sweep aside my presence amongst strangers. I cry because you hide the truth from me. I cry because the lies are insulting. I cry because I see the dark and no matter how hard I try I can no longer see the light. I cry because I am killing my emotions, hour by hour, day by day. I cry because the murder of my soul is because of you. I cry with clean hands as I look at your blood soaked elbows, emerging from the hole in my chest that makes me cry.

The definition of my tears is disillusionment. It is hatred borne of love, care and respect. Where warmth once lived, there is now only despair and a locked door.

I cry because the thought of ever feeling again makes me vomit.
I write it down because I am terrified of that being the truth.
At least I can still cry.

~ Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2011

RETURN TO SENDER

Calling the petulant warmth of flame

With water to soothe in agitated currents

Dragging the air of justice from its depths

The depths of grounding earth

My breath upon your face, smoked

And blown softly over right hand

And uncurled fist

To return all that was given to me

No less

No more

Karma’s vacant stare is restored

To dormant state

The useless emotions leave my hands

From my heart and my mind

As passion turns to dust

As hopes are drowned

And dreams are buried in the frozen earth

Do not smile

Or shrug

Or sleep

Should the ashes float past your window

On a blizzards careless wind

Take care and think twice

It is a sad, sorrowful tale I send

A final gift.

Fire diminishes its flame as water recedes to painless tides

Air stills its breath and the earth warms once more

I feel the peace in quiet solitude

Knowing you have what you deserve.

~ Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2010

Hung-over from a past early night

(somewhere)

and the deficient marrow aches

of too much nothingness

intuitively lived and lied and felt

in headaches and yawning and stiffness

Today’s fortune is read in the mud

            at the bottom of yesterdays coffee

Swallowed in bitterness (repentance for threepence?)

Tempered with the loss of sensation

            a circular doorway brings as a constant

It was like a spell for a four year old

Turning off the lights

And turning around and around

Widdershins; without an opening

Or a prayer

Laughter in darkness

How cute?

The motion of the sun

In a hidden exit

          became the story of a life yet to be fucked up

But only after that day…

I don’t think I ever

              found my way out

Be dumb Leccie

Be stupid

Be dull and easy and clockwise

You won’t frighten people away

~ Leccie 2010

Winter

i

She should be melting right now

Left only with armfuls of nothing

as the ice returns to liquid state

Twisted [sic] spelling; crumble, shatter

Frozen words; glistening

Never ignored

Too cold for the thaw

Frost still crisp and crackling

underfoot; under heart

Breathe; burned blue

Drifting, cover; vitreous vision still

Glacial movement; cold stasis

behind a favourite pair of shades

Exorcism of shivering, crystal excuses

and glacial lies; toothache

Make it quick

[sic]

[sic]

[sic]

of riddles

ii

A message

in glorious technicolour

She cried

didn't want it; go away

Don't look at me

Don't talk to me

Don't ask me

Don't love me

Stay the fuck away from me

The roller coaster looped

futility became normal

She's walking past the field

to a table she knows will hurt soon enough

a meeting; putting her hand on the hot stove again

except this one is cold

frozen enough to burn

the hot/cold pain is the same

Drunken misdeeds

Hedonistic lies

Trying to find a level that wasn't so high

or low

or cold

or hot

warm; slightly underneath the middle

She tried to love him

He didn't love himself

Failure

She throws it out

He slams the door

iii

She builds the wall again

with the love in her soul

If she didnt care

Would she cement the bricks 

so many times over?

She is desperate not to let anything through

ever; She cannot care again

Read: Lilith Panics

Read: Lilith is now an Island

DON'T read: "You and ya island need to float this way a bit"

The iceberg will melt and stop drifting

And warm sand will appear beneath her

punctuated with hard fossil and solid granite

that no one will ever penetrate again

iv

This is the last time she will cry; the last time she will think 

The last time that she will ever admire Winter's Frost in that way

She may embrace it again; but the tears are frozen forever

SRWB 2010

DREAM #68

The answer -  in glorious, manic Technicolor now resides in her head. Sold, bargained, pleaded; possessions for green rain. He sold her car. 

A white dress; why did he put her in that? A fucking kaftan? A mounded concept of what he needed, still pleaded. And the seasoning always made a meeting more appealing. What will she bring?

Fake friends; wise? They think so with a passing comment and a cat call. A nickname, a character, a jape and a phony. 

A lock comes away in her hands; rotten? It just slid right out with the key still attached and unable to turn. Oh! It does that all the time, apparently. 

Right.  Just fix it back on; to the scalp of ghosts. The ghosts of a past lived by someone who really doesn't want to leave them behind. Neurosurgery on dark street corners. I ask you?!

He is exactly who she thought he might be before he tried to change her view. I guess that is why he was so quiet - Being someone else all that time? It’s not easy to speak in another’s name and not give yourself away. 

That first message that made her panic and think 'Oh Goddess, not again, pleeeease!'

She got over him while he was still trying to make up his mind; whilst she slept; whilst he smoked and indulged his self-obsession and unworthiness.  

He wants to be alone and to that end, she knows she is not the right person for him; nor is he worthy of her love.  

She wishes that he would see deeper than he does. She wishes that he could see the person that she sees through clarified eyes. She doesn’t think he ever will; perpetuating the need for actions that alienate him from an enlightened world. 

He says enlightenment is not being attached to anything; she says it is a letting go and experiencing what they have right now. 

He uses it to alienate; she uses it to battle the cynicism of past years. 

He knew she existed and she knows he exists. 

She’ll find him again; but he will be entirely different on the eye. 

She walks away, a piece of her heart wrapped firmly around that misinformed lock, knowing that should he ever choose to find out who she really is – she will be waiting.

SRWB 2010

Silence

The imagined are unimaginable

The thought streams harsh and fear is cold

To love; to care; to focus; to want

yet be separate - be closed

for the greater good?

Recoil from pain - still open

Silent and unwanting - *door slam*

Silence ...

Silence ...

Silence ...

This silence is louder than I have ever known

and I cannot block it from my ears

Nor cease to wonder

Which of my sins was so awful

that it created this ...?

srwb 2010

I NEVER ASKED

I never asked…

I’m back in my seat

Watching from distant luna-tic shores

If you ask for my location

It will be unbelievable at best

There are so many shades of blue

I cannot decipher one from another

Contact is eaten - in detriment or release?

The situation has come around

With shocking unexpectedness

That I should miss you

And that is much worse

Than the stressful boundaries

We created in the sand

I never asked …

I’m sitting cross-legged

As the demons battle upon midnight edges

If you ask why I’m leaving

It will be understandable at most

You placed me here; amongst electric

Amongst chaos, within cyan blindness

Inside Azure - muddied to Prussian hues

A coffee cup rests against my cheek

As the noise of the air around me

Becomes too obvious to my ears

I have abandoned the memories

Of prismatic reflection

in asphyxiated limbo

Resist restraint and my rattling position

Precarious - a calm surface

And somewhere inside

I am quite distressed

Which is unbearable

A non-penetrable waste

“I’m lyin … I am afraid”

My lies are shown in truth

unrealised and denied

I didn't know

Never thought to ask

I woke from my false, insipid dream

and realised my human-ness

I'mhurtsorry

I never asked

I never asked

I never asked

Will showing distress reveal my weakness?

Will you hate me for cracking

in uncommon situations?

What is this? Really?

No control group exists

to appease your mind

Just a wash of surgical sapphire

Released in love, of course

I never even asked

Maybe stupid questions

should remain unspoken (asked?)

Ego and [alter] are merged now

I never asked

I should ask

Do I need to let go?

*I've let go

~ Leccie 2010

SRWB 2010