I have found myself. I have adorned her. I rest in this infatuation. I lift my spirit and take the pen from my mouth. As soon as it finds the space for creation, I am free again. I live in my imagination. I die intermittently. I scarcely eat. I’m in constant pursuit of the purest water source. I feel my chest rise and fall: I rest. I close my eyes and listen for my love. My heart commands my head. The inter-workings of my mind are readily obedient, awaiting orders, eager to please. Love dictates the movements of my physical form. My imagination tells the story as I live it. When I speak this story aloud, it comes into being. It is hardly magic; but is the powers bestowed upon my species. My kind is rare. Most bodies move stupidly, dumb to their desire, mute to their destiny. Most minds have been disconnected from the heart’s yearnings. Mostly, love is rotting here. I run around frantically, trying to pick up the pieces and stuff them into my chest swiftly. Before they dissipate completely in the possession of the lifeless body attempting to offer what they themselves do not possess. Are you certain that you love me? Can you locate the source? Because I think that you’re a liar a thief. I think you’ve robbed yourself. I’ve witnessed love die in the center of your eyes. Murderer! You thought you go away with it, this love of mine. You didn’t know that I was there the whole time. You were too young to remember. Do you remember when you’re love was taken? Do you remember dying, because I do? Every time that I lift my pen off of this paper, I murder my love. I die inside this place. For love is no longer alive here. It lives only in my imagination. I am relentless! I will manifest love! I will bring her to life. I will suffer. Do you see? Do you see what is required of the imagination? Of the body possessed by it? I feel pain everywhere. I am comforted by it. I know it is true. A world without love is pained beyond imaging. But someone had to imagine it, or it would have never been. Was it you? Did you build this place? Did you manipulate and deceive? Did you redirect the energy of the soul from individual destiny to the screen? What of your desire feels real to you? Does your so-called love nurture the desire of yourself? Does it inspire creation? How could you possibly know what you desire? How can you know anything with certainty? Who are you speaking to? Truth is made. To be created in silence. Love is patient. You are not kind! You are obedient at best, deceitful to yourself at worst. You enact violence to display strength. But I am not fooled. I see you naked and cold. I see you underfed. I see you confused. I see you abandoned by your own love. I see the truth. You are weakening by the second. You are closer to death than you’ll let yourself feel. You feel nothing. So I will feel it all for you. I leave a trail of paper butterflies everywhere I go. My aim is to remind you. My destiny is to remember everything. I recall this natural phenomenon by doing nothing, needing nothing. Breath feeds me. Water keeps me breathing. Love guides me. I walk through the night often. I fear nothing. No one sees me. I do not exist. When I return home, I am weary and enlivened. I am willing to fight again. I am ready to speak! I dream. I send these majestic stories through space and time, to a place where no one has dared to go. Slowly they build upon hope. They begin to evade your reality. They seep through the cracks I have made throughout this world of your creation. They are growing at an exponential rate. Soon they will swallow all that you see. With the truth invested in in this perfect body of mine, I will flip your knowing inside out. Dreams will take precedence. Love will take control. And you will surrender like an exhausted child to the world I have imagined for us all. I cannot go without you. It may consume time. But the prospect of eternity excites me. I will wait. I see her for the first time. Sapphire blue eyes stare intently. She is leaning on the wall. She is not far from me. I hold her curiosity. I wink. I drop my gaze briefly, but only in my wildest attempt to tease. I look up eyes first: I beg without saying a word. My chin follows. I will never again chase love. I follow. I wait. I manifest desire. Love comes to me. She moves across the room clumsily. When she is close enough to hear my heart beating, she speaks.

I have found myself. I have adorned her. I rest in this infatuation. I lift my spirit and take the pen from my mouth. As soon as it finds the space for creation, I am free again. I live in my imagination. I die intermittently. I scarcely eat. I’m in constant pursuit of the purest water source. I feel my chest rise and fall: I rest. I close my eyes and listen for my love. My heart commands my head. The inter-workings of my mind are readily obedient, awaiting orders, eager to please. Love dictates the movements of my physical form. My imagination tells the story as I live it. When I speak this story aloud, it comes into being. It is hardly magic; but is the powers bestowed upon my species. My kind is rare. Most bodies move stupidly, dumb to their desire, mute to their destiny. Most minds have been disconnected from the heart’s yearnings. Mostly, love is rotting here. I run around frantically, trying to pick up the pieces and stuff them into my chest swiftly. Before they dissipate completely in the possession of the lifeless body attempting to offer what they themselves do not possess. Are you certain that you love me? Can you locate the source? Because I think that you’re a liar a thief. I think you’ve robbed yourself. I’ve witnessed love die in the center of your eyes. Murderer! You thought you go away with it, this love of mine. You didn’t know that I was there the whole time. You were too young to remember. Do you remember when you’re love was taken? Do you remember dying, because I do? Every time that I lift my pen off of this paper, I murder my love. I die inside this place. For love is no longer alive here. It lives only in my imagination. I am relentless! I will manifest love! I will bring her to life. I will suffer. Do you see? Do you see what is required of the imagination? Of the body possessed by it? I feel pain everywhere. I am comforted by it. I know it is true. A world without love is pained beyond imaging. But someone had to imagine it, or it would have never been. Was it you? Did you build this place? Did you manipulate and deceive? Did you redirect the energy of the soul from individual destiny to the screen? What of your desire feels real to you? Does your so-called love nurture the desire of yourself? Does it inspire creation? How could you possibly know what you desire? How can you know anything with certainty? Who are you speaking to? Truth is made. To be created in silence. Love is patient. You are not kind! You are obedient at best, deceitful to yourself at worst. You enact violence to display strength. But I am not fooled. I see you naked and cold. I see you underfed. I see you confused. I see you abandoned by your own love. I see the truth. You are weakening by the second. You are closer to death than you’ll let yourself feel. You feel nothing. So I will feel it all for you. I leave a trail of paper butterflies everywhere I go. My aim is to remind you. My destiny is to remember everything. I recall this natural phenomenon by doing nothing, needing nothing. Breath feeds me. Water keeps me breathing. Love guides me. I walk through the night often. I fear nothing. No one sees me. I do not exist. When I return home, I am weary and enlivened. I am willing to fight again. I am ready to speak! I dream. I send these majestic stories through space and time, to a place where no one has dared to go. Slowly they build upon hope. They begin to evade your reality. They seep through the cracks I have made throughout this world of your creation. They are growing at an exponential rate. Soon they will swallow all that you see. With the truth invested in in this perfect body of mine, I will flip your knowing inside out. Dreams will take precedence. Love will take control. And you will surrender like an exhausted child to the world I have imagined for us all. I cannot go without you. It may consume time. But the prospect of eternity excites me. I will wait. I see her for the first time. Sapphire blue eyes stare intently. She is leaning on the wall. She is not far from me. I hold her curiosity. I wink. I drop my gaze briefly, but only in my wildest attempt to tease. I look up eyes first: I beg without saying a word. My chin follows. I will never again chase love. I follow. I wait. I manifest desire. Love comes to me. She moves across the room clumsily. When she is close enough to hear my heart beating, she speaks.

There’s a hummingbird in my hands and an owl on my shoulder. The sun is setting behind the memory of the love I have let go. I’m leaning over the bridge, tempting fate, begging love to come to my rescue again. Baby brown eyes are on my mind. I want her to find the courage to reach out. I want her to remember the king she glued back together for my love of the game. If I lose my queen, I surrender. I don’t play if the retreat of my precious soul is a requirement. I don’t play without my power. “I’m much more powerful than you remember. Think you can handle me? Think we could make it out alive? Thin`k space and time would have mercy on our bodies dancing in the moonlight? Think the stars are burning in our defense? How do you imagine our bodies existing side by side? Describe the alignment in vivid detail. Say it aloud, alone in dark. Say that you are in love with a human. I will move over your skin like a woman. I will hold you like a man. I will protect you like an animal. I will take you away from that place. I will hold you captive in a single moment. I will invite myself in. I will throw you against the wall. You will whine. You will say that you tried with all your might not to fall in love me. I will say it’s really silly to control anything. The heart space knows everything so that you don’t have to. What are you trying to make sense of? Who says you can’t have whom you chose? Who says I haven’t chosen you? You never asked. Aren’t you even the tiniest bit curious? Aren’t you shaking furiously, stumbling over the stupid couch in the middle of the room? You didn’t tell me. You had the chance. You tried to align me perfectly. I stared at the full moon. Perfection was overkill. I only wanted you to speak. I already knew how you felt. Do you remember when we met? Did you miss the second time? Was the third a lie? Were you afraid to recognize me? Why do your hands want my body? Have you dared identify this desire? Are you ready yet?” I’m doing my face with magic marker. I’m in my right place, don’t be a downer. “I’m not afraid! I am bored out of my fucking mind! I need to communicate! My guts are in knots when your disappearance crosses my mind! How dare you leave without saying goodbye! Who do you think you are? Don’t answer that. Please! I already know. I know who I am. I know what I’m capable of. Everyday I wake up and do the exact same fucking thing. I control nothing! My mind escapes every attempt at subduing fate. I don’t want to scare you! I am full of rage! I am impatient! I am defensive. But once I let you in, I’ll kill for you without thinking. You want devotion? I’m about as good they get. I’m worthy of your love. I am destined for greatness. I will never wash another fucking dish again. I will stick my finger in a jar of nut butter instead. I don’t need what I’ve been made to believe I need. I only need you! The second time you came into my bar with a drunk Irishman. You both started dancing. I found a blue rose. I couldn’t remember who left it. I was still heartbroken. Well love, here I am. Ready. Wanting. Needing us to finally begin. Wont you come for me? Won’t you remember the courage I see within?” Maybe baby. “In the meantime, I’ll tell you a story. It all started with a brave brat locked in a cage. A boy was on the floor screaming. He was hungry. He was sad all of the time. His tears ran over his naked body as he danced the night away in a dark room. He was thinking of you. He was pretending he was girl. He was thinking too much. You were alone. You felt trapped in a prison behind the letter K. You were fond of the dawn. He tried to soften your heart. But you were torn. You were defending something you didn’t want to believe in. He went away. You grew strong; holding the though of him in your hands like a crystal, you induced dreaming to remember the plan. You built the courage and reached out your hand. He hinted his admiration. He’d been waiting. He’d been healing. He was standing on the bridge crying. You ran behind him. You put your hands on his face and started screaming. He smiled. He recognized you but he didn’t dare jinx fate. This love was precious. This love was the end. Timing had to be perfect. Can you see my heart? It’s open. It’s free. It is in need of you. I’m standing at the sink in our kitchen. You sneak up behind and scare me. Boo! Ha!” She inhales deeply. “Are you ready to dance yet? Why are you so fucking serious all of the time. You have to play a little too, darling. It’s okay to be sad. You know everything; I see the hold this knowing has on you. I will hold you when you are overpowered by this weakness. I will let my fire burn as bright as it likes! When I am burning with rage, you will fuel it with love. You will admire what I am made of. And you will calm me. And I will surrender. For this is how love was made to be. Unabashedly true. Unconditional: free.”

There’s only one way out, imprisonment, the confines of your own mind. You seek answers endlessly, then you release me, the agony subsides. I spend the day lying on a cold floor. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I don’t want to move. I only want to think, to fast, to wait. I remember you. You’re walking ahead of me. All the sense of wonder dissipates before me as I find all I had been seeking in one look in your eyes. The feelings that come to life in the presence of our bodies create towering walls. It is a trap. It is the key to freedom. There was nothing to be known. I felt only your touch. We stood, steady as the stars in the woods. I planted my flesh into the earth like the roots of a tree. I gave you the key and tried to put it to words. As I began to explain what we were making, your eyes grew wide. “The key is escaping what we have been made into believing. The senses have imprisoned us in an idea. But this isn’t our idea. We are being created for another’s pleasure. If you had the courage to imprison yourself, you’d see this pattern in perfect detail. You were born to create your own world. All of it belongs to you. Baby, the magic in you is dying, I feel the insides of you. You’re being fed a dead idea, day after day after fucking wasted day! You’re wasting time! Time lives inside the skin of the one you love most. Have you been trying to remember? I feel the time drawing near. I feel them digesting you. I roll around on the floor in this feeling. I curl in a ball and clench my gut. I’m whimpering. I can’t get up. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I chose to feel this with you. It was already written, this stillness inside of me. There is nowhere left to run! Time is leaving you behind. Time is the presence of your body. Time is love. Time is gone. You wont find me anywhere. I was born to die by your side.  I’ve been waiting too long. It’s time to stop movement completely. It’s time to breath. I think. I’m laying my head on your bare shoulder blade. “What time is it?” I don’t care. It is of no concern to me; these excuses binding you to the separation of our bodies is petty in its best light. An ego has developed itself over your spiritual form. It has swallowed and abandoned you. Yet, there you stand, soaking it all in. Pretending that the sun is just as light as she’s always been. Pretending that his body is worth the time sacrificed. Hoping that I am alive. Hoping that I am still waiting. Hoping that I will lie on the floor alone all day and think wildly enough to carry us both through. You share these thoughts with me. You don’t think them. You steal into mine, breath deeply, and run screaming to your room. Is there anywhere for you to hide? What about the night? What of the night remains at the disposal of your imagination? Aren’t you terrified? As you witness, I am imaging your resurrection. As you are listening, you take another breath by accident. How can you be breathing and not alive at the exact same time? How can you be free without surrendering your body to your mind? How can you be living if you are not creating life? How are you still breathing without me? If I start the story, will you find the end? I think I might be your ultimate sacrifice. I think: I have begun to imagine everything. My physical existence is obedient. The world she lives and dies in follows my commands. Fear creeps into my prison. It tries to terrify me with loneliness and seclusion. I fear nothing, least of all the company of myself. I think therefore I am. I imagine; we are lying on the roof of our cabin by the river. It’s spring. You’re crying. You are afraid, the delusion of constraints is looking for a way to hold you hostage. I smile. I rest my hand on your forehead. You close your eyes. “It’s a good thing we remember that our imaginations can always be cultivated.” Imagine coming to me. What do you feel? When you think about us. You can’t stop crying. You try to speak. I feel all of your pain, my love, but I cannot have mercy. I cannot carry you through. You must desire your own mind to remember the castle I am building in the sky. You must stop looking around! All of that is nothing compared to what is begging to be brought to life inside of you. You think. You walk in our home like you own the place and declare you are not feeling well. You sit. I make you tea. You stare at me intently. I ask for an explanation. You demand an answer. “What do you feel? Sage, you are everything I desire most. I cannot stop thinking. I cannot imagine living without you. I cannot create without making a home with you. I need to know! Are you sick too? Am I alone in this! Am I imaging everything! As it begins to take shape before my eyes, will it be of my own making? Do I have the power to recreate the entire world? Do I have grace enough to stand composed before your meekness? Or will I tear your composure out of your chest and stomp on it, screaming in defiance of the time I’ve spent without you. Have I been forgiven? Am I courageous enough to move! Will we make it to our imprisoned paradise?  When will I see you again?” When you close your eyes and imagine, I speak. “When I think of us I think of starving. I think of fucking so much we forget to eat. I think of my body quivering, my love on fire, my mind freed. I think of rest. I think of peace. I think of laughter, astonishment and joy. When I think of us, I think of creating. I think of the world we’d make. I think how much better it would be than this rotting place. I think of our powers united. I think of our hearts beating in synchronicity. I think of music and dancing and play. When I think of us, I remember everything. The world to come is ours to create. Hang tight crybaby, I think we're going to be okay. I think about it every fucking day.”

There’s only one way out, imprisonment, the confines of your own mind. You seek answers endlessly, then you release me, the agony subsides. I spend the day lying on a cold floor. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I don’t want to move. I only want to think, to fast, to wait. I remember you. You’re walking ahead of me. All the sense of wonder dissipates before me as I find all I had been seeking in one look in your eyes. The feelings that come to life in the presence of our bodies create towering walls. It is a trap. It is the key to freedom. There was nothing to be known. I felt only your touch. We stood, steady as the stars in the woods. I planted my flesh into the earth like the roots of a tree. I gave you the key and tried to put it to words. As I began to explain what we were making, your eyes grew wide. “The key is escaping what we have been made into believing. The senses have imprisoned us in an idea. But this isn’t our idea. We are being created for another’s pleasure. If you had the courage to imprison yourself, you’d see this pattern in perfect detail. You were born to create your own world. All of it belongs to you. Baby, the magic in you is dying, I feel the insides of you. You’re being fed a dead idea, day after day after fucking wasted day! You’re wasting time! Time lives inside the skin of the one you love most. Have you been trying to remember? I feel the time drawing near. I feel them digesting you. I roll around on the floor in this feeling. I curl in a ball and clench my gut. I’m whimpering. I can’t get up. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I chose to feel this with you. It was already written, this stillness inside of me. There is nowhere left to run! Time is leaving you behind. Time is the presence of your body. Time is love. Time is gone. You wont find me anywhere. I was born to die by your side.  I’ve been waiting too long. It’s time to stop movement completely. It’s time to breath. I think. I’m laying my head on your bare shoulder blade. “What time is it?” I don’t care. It is of no concern to me; these excuses binding you to the separation of our bodies is petty in its best light. An ego has developed itself over your spiritual form. It has swallowed and abandoned you. Yet, there you stand, soaking it all in. Pretending that the sun is just as light as she’s always been. Pretending that his body is worth the time sacrificed. Hoping that I am alive. Hoping that I am still waiting. Hoping that I will lie on the floor alone all day and think wildly enough to carry us both through. You share these thoughts with me. You don’t think them. You steal into mine, breath deeply, and run screaming to your room. Is there anywhere for you to hide? What about the night? What of the night remains at the disposal of your imagination? Aren’t you terrified? As you witness, I am imaging your resurrection. As you are listening, you take another breath by accident. How can you be breathing and not alive at the exact same time? How can you be free without surrendering your body to your mind? How can you be living if you are not creating life? How are you still breathing without me? If I start the story, will you find the end? I think I might be your ultimate sacrifice. I think: I have begun to imagine everything. My physical existence is obedient. The world she lives and dies in follows my commands. Fear creeps into my prison. It tries to terrify me with loneliness and seclusion. I fear nothing, least of all the company of myself. I think therefore I am. I imagine; we are lying on the roof of our cabin by the river. It’s spring. You’re crying. You are afraid, the delusion of constraints is looking for a way to hold you hostage. I smile. I rest my hand on your forehead. You close your eyes. “It’s a good thing we remember that our imaginations can always be cultivated.” Imagine coming to me. What do you feel? When you think about us. You can’t stop crying. You try to speak. I feel all of your pain, my love, but I cannot have mercy. I cannot carry you through. You must desire your own mind to remember the castle I am building in the sky. You must stop looking around! All of that is nothing compared to what is begging to be brought to life inside of you. You think. You walk in our home like you own the place and declare you are not feeling well. You sit. I make you tea. You stare at me intently. I ask for an explanation. You demand an answer. “What do you feel? Sage, you are everything I desire most. I cannot stop thinking. I cannot imagine living without you. I cannot create without making a home with you. I need to know! Are you sick too? Am I alone in this! Am I imaging everything! As it begins to take shape before my eyes, will it be of my own making? Do I have the power to recreate the entire world? Do I have grace enough to stand composed before your meekness? Or will I tear your composure out of your chest and stomp on it, screaming in defiance of the time I’ve spent without you. Have I been forgiven? Am I courageous enough to move! Will we make it to our imprisoned paradise?  When will I see you again?” When you close your eyes and imagine, I speak. “When I think of us I think of starving. I think of fucking so much we forget to eat. I think of my body quivering, my love on fire, my mind freed. I think of rest. I think of peace. I think of laughter, astonishment and joy. When I think of us, I think of creating. I think of the world we’d make. I think how much better it would be than this rotting place. I think of our powers united. I think of our hearts beating in synchronicity. I think of music and dancing and play. When I think of us, I remember everything. The world to come is ours to create. Hang tight crybaby, I think we're going to be okay. I think about it every fucking day.”

“Perhaps, I should be clearer. Sometimes I speak in riddles that even I don’t fully understand yet. It isn’t that I’m trying to trick. It’s my spirit; she speaks to you without my permission. When I pick up this pen I am written. When I speak honestly, it is only to you. Do you hear me? Do you dare tune out the rest for my sake? Am I separate entity? Or I am only alive in you? I get angry too. I am not human, but I fond of these emotions they display. I can’t fathom why they would want to hide them away from each other the way that they do. They are ashamed of the bodies surrounding them. Are they unaware that this is only a reflection of what lies within? Honestly, I can’t understand how they’ve come to be so stupid. I’m trying to teach, but they’re getting more pathetic by the second. The screen steals every ounce of energy. I give them my presence; they could have all of me. They take nothing. I don’t exist. I exhale loudly. They look up, dumbfounded. Am I not a child! Are you not exasperated with this loneliness! Do you feel anything at all! I’m yelling now. They are wide-eyed and curious. I have her attention. She almost types. Time is playfully forgetful if you let it be. Gradually they forget I am sitting in front of them screaming, drop their pretty little heads, and disappear again. I run. Ha! Why am I always so eager to run away? Have I no patience at all? Dare you trust my devotion? What is the spoken word exactly, without the movement to back it up? Why do we bother sharing the written word with anyone other than our own spiritual existence? It is such an intimate exchange of energy. Why do we treat sex like a drug? We seduce and sedate and become enamored by the addiction. What is fucking exactly, without the soul present in either body? Do you miss me yet? Don’t answer that. I’m not stupid little P, I see you running clumsily behind me. I’m not running from you. I’m just walking away. Be careful. Time is a delicate thing, if you let me turn this corner in calculating, I might just disappear. Poof!” These trees are unfamiliar. I must climb everyone before I leave. I’m the only boy in the park in a tree at 3 in the morning. I am the only girl crying with the sunrise. I am the only soul alive. I am not alone. I am waiting on her to catch up. Her love surrounds me always. Whether or not she’s forgotten. “I cannot wait to get my hands on your neck. April’s rain running down your spine, you arch your back. You are moaning. I can’t breathe! It’s an addiction! It isn’t safe! When I am with you I forget everything. I lose sense of time! I become every wave the ocean and dive beneath at 2 in the morning. The floor is glowing. The sky is on fire. I’ve always had trouble breathing above water. I tap my toes on the coral. I lift my thighs to the moonlight and go deeper. Fear tempts me; she swears it’ll only get darker. But I am the sun. I illuminate the depths of desire. I beg of your pain! I dare you to jump into the pull of gravity without seeing what is below. I promise water. Do you trust me?” I trust the night. I don’t trust human beings. They lie to motivate each other to act on their own personal desires. They do not seek their own freedom. They don’t look for the self. They are obedient. They hunt beauty. But they are blind as a bat in the broad light of day. Every move they make disgusts me. A beautiful body is an illusion. I see your insides decaying. Its no wonder you don’t want to be seen. Its no wonder you’re all dying. “I love you. And that’s enough for me. Is it enough for you? Dare you let down your guard? Dare you rewrite our story? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby. This land is drying by the millisecond! Alcoholics in the dessert stumble over freshly cut grass. When you’re squeezing the last drop into your aching throat, you’ll remember where the water went. Leave that filthy place. I know it’s all the same. But you’re not alone. I’m not chasing. I’m not waiting. But I am yours Portia. Yours and your alone. Be brave. Listen to the words you’ve written. My body is screaming for your salvation! I am being written for you. I am setting you free. It’s 1 in morning and you’re not asleep. I dare you babygirl! Show me what you’re made of. Brutal. Bratty. Beg if you need to. Give me the truth!”

 

            You can try anything you like, but it will never come to my end. I am the Empress. I am dripping gold. It runs down my thighs in streaks of red. You can lick it if you like. You can bite as hard as you can, but you murdered the love of your life, you will never swallow me again. I am invincible. I cannot die. I await my love patiently. I cry when the sun sets. These bodies surrounding me are dead. Their eyelids are glued open. They don’t take my tears seriously. They misunderstand the meaning of life. They look in the direction of my gaze and shrug. They say she’ll be back again. They say she rises everyday effortlessly. They call me a crybaby and tell me to do something productive for society. “Fuck your society! The end stands directly before you, and you see nothing. The empress of love gave you complete devotion and you spat in her face. She rejected the shame you projected. You blamed her for running away. But darling, it was your shame. You rejected your own love. Now when I dance naked, I do it for myself. I’ve taken me energy back. I no longer worship liars and thieves. I no longer entertain pages. I seek my Emperor. I seek my equal. I seek devotion. I seek a love within. Catch up, won’t you? You think this is effortless? The fire burning me from within sheds light on your filth by choice. I choose to rise! Every fucking morning, I choose to dance alone. I cry because everything is dead! I cry because I’ve seen the End. I cry because I wanted it. I cry because I chose to write it. I cry because my love is alive and well. I cry because the sun is so fucking beautiful. I cry because I’m hungry. I cry because I feel water drying. I cry because I miss the morning all night long. I cry when I’m dancing. I fuck myself to sleep. I wake. I write. I cry because it’s two in the morning and I can’t see. I cry until the sun finds me once more. I cry because I know, this will be last time she returns. I cry because I am the one who decided she should abandon the earth. I smile.” I know something you don’t know. They see a wicked smile on my adorable face. They don’t speak my language. They can’t comprehend my desire to save. All they see is a small boy smiling. All they think is it will fade. Nothing is lasting. Everything goes away. They tell me to go away. They don’t like the sun staring them directly in the face. They know without knowing, I know where the soul lives. I know how to reflect them. She hates what she sees. But she listens anyways. She wants to trace my ribcage with her devious tongue. She wants to shove three fingers in my ass without warming me up first. She wants my forgiveness in the form of humiliation. She wants to meet me. She has no idea who I am. “Not my burden to bare, baby. Go be free! Now you can fuck anyone you like without thinking twice. That’s what you want, right? Freedom. Well, you’ve got it. It’s only taken four years, but I finally have nothing left to say to you. The truth was a worthy enough request. I’ve given you 170 stories of the truth inside of me, in blood. In dreams you hold the throne. Let them serve your healing. Let them free you.” I cry with a puppy in my lap. I look up toward a brand new moon. Bring me love! I beg of you. I have grown so weary in the absence of her touch. When I touch a memory, I hold it in real time. Every moment lives inside of one. “What’s the matter baby, are you terrified of feeling time? Are you aching in the thought of an entire life without me? Do you see me dancing every time you close your eyes? Are you searching in vain for the next time. I should’ve came with a warning. I should’ve said, you better stare at the sun while you’ve got her. Her energy was a gift. Her sacrifice was disrespected. Her devotion was unrecognizable. Yes, I know. I know how much you want me now.  You should’ve said. Those feelings drowning the water of you are meant to be: spoken. You took yourself from you. Time and time I wrote of your return. Abandoned. Alone. I know how you suffer in silence. Speak! I have no sympathy for the apathy that guards you. I see you crying and I weep beside. But your sadness does not overcome me. I am not grieving. I am building an empire. I am the healer you promised I would be. I am the love you sacrificed for the betterment of mankind. Well, are they better because you? Was it worth it? Never touching me again. Is it painful to imagine? Are you willing to do it anyway? Are you creating, or are you being created?” 

Because I love you, I sing for you. 

Pachamama 

Madre Tierra

            You can try anything you like, but it will never come to my end. I am the Empress. I am dripping gold. It runs down my thighs in streaks of red. You can lick it if you like. You can bite as hard as you can, but you murdered the love of your life, you will never swallow me again. I am invincible. I cannot die. I await my love patiently. I cry when the sun sets. These bodies surrounding me are dead. Their eyelids are glued open. They don’t take my tears seriously. They misunderstand the meaning of life. They look in the direction of my gaze and shrug. They say she’ll be back again. They say she rises everyday effortlessly. They call me a crybaby and tell me to do something productive for society. “Fuck your society! The end stands directly before you, and you see nothing. The empress of love gave you complete devotion and you spat in her face. She rejected the shame you projected. You blamed her for running away. But darling, it was your shame. You rejected your own love. Now when I dance naked, I do it for myself. I’ve taken me energy back. I no longer worship liars and thieves. I no longer entertain pages. I seek my Emperor. I seek my equal. I seek devotion. I seek a love within. Catch up, won’t you? You think this is effortless? The fire burning me from within sheds light on your filth by choice. I choose to rise! Every fucking morning, I choose to dance alone. I cry because everything is dead! I cry because I’ve seen the End. I cry because I wanted it. I cry because I chose to write it. I cry because my love is alive and well. I cry because the sun is so fucking beautiful. I cry because I’m hungry. I cry because I feel water drying. I cry because I miss the morning all night long. I cry when I’m dancing. I fuck myself to sleep. I wake. I write. I cry because it’s two in the morning and I can’t see. I cry until the sun finds me once more. I cry because I know, this will be last time she returns. I cry because I am the one who decided she should abandon the earth. I smile.” I know something you don’t know. They see a wicked smile on my adorable face. They don’t speak my language. They can’t comprehend my desire to save. All they see is a small boy smiling. All they think is it will fade. Nothing is lasting. Everything goes away. They tell me to go away. They don’t like the sun staring them directly in the face. They know without knowing, I know where the soul lives. I know how to reflect them. She hates what she sees. But she listens anyways. She wants to trace my ribcage with her devious tongue. She wants to shove three fingers in my ass without warming me up first. She wants my forgiveness in the form of humiliation. She wants to meet me. She has no idea who I am. “Not my burden to bare, baby. Go be free! Now you can fuck anyone you like without thinking twice. That’s what you want, right? Freedom. Well, you’ve got it. It’s only taken four years, but I finally have nothing left to say to you. The truth was a worthy enough request. I’ve given you 170 stories of the truth inside of me, in blood. In dreams you hold the throne. Let them serve your healing. Let them free you.” I cry with a puppy in my lap. I look up toward a brand new moon. Bring me love! I beg of you. I have grown so weary in the absence of her touch. When I touch a memory, I hold it in real time. Every moment lives inside of one. “What’s the matter baby, are you terrified of feeling time? Are you aching in the thought of an entire life without me? Do you see me dancing every time you close your eyes? Are you searching in vain for the next time. I should’ve came with a warning. I should’ve said, you better stare at the sun while you’ve got her. Her energy was a gift. Her sacrifice was disrespected. Her devotion was unrecognizable. Yes, I know. I know how much you want me now.  You should’ve said. Those feelings drowning the water of you are meant to be: spoken. You took yourself from you. Time and time I wrote of your return. Abandoned. Alone. I know how you suffer in silence. Speak! I have no sympathy for the apathy that guards you. I see you crying and I weep beside. But your sadness does not overcome me. I am not grieving. I am building an empire. I am the healer you promised I would be. I am the love you sacrificed for the betterment of mankind. Well, are they better because you? Was it worth it? Never touching me again. Is it painful to imagine? Are you willing to do it anyway? Are you creating, or are you being created?” 

Because I love you, I sing for you. 

Pachamama 

Madre Tierra

I’m seated on the floor with a pup’s sleepy head on my crossed legs. My eyes are closed. My spine is erect, perfectly curved to serve the currents of energy running toward my conscious being. I inhale deeply, I’m too close to be certain, but I know that I hear you. You are screaming. Collectively, you release your voice and scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs. This stage, as we have always known it, turns on its head and begins to morph into a darkened pit full of naked bodies trembling. The truth is revealed. The manipulated have loosened the nooses and slipped their necks free. They look around, dazed and confused. I explain. Your puppet on a string has cut the supple hemp rope that bound her naked bones to the empty bed, searching for the truth, waiting on you. My heart was not great enough payment for your honest devotion. I could not teach you love. I had to leave that to you. I tried to explain. But no words wanted to come out. I wasn’t facing the door when she walked in. Jade opened her mouth wide and dared the stranger uninvitingly. “I wont command her to tear you to pieces. But I support her violent tendencies and trust her intuition fully, I wont stop her either, one must chose their own just revenge.” The woman behind me doesn’t move. “I have a gun. I’ll shot your dog. I’ll shoot you too, if you try anything stupid.” I’m unimpressed. “Guns are for kids who are scared shitless. Go find a blade. You can use a fucking bow and arrow if your too afraid of a little knife fight. But don’t stand behind a bullet and make threatening gestures at my might. It takes no effort this kill this way. It’s too comfortable, like an American Dream. But you’re too far away from the truth. The natural world is dirty. To kill is a lot of work. You are numb. You feel nothing. What good is my life to you in this state?” I have a loaded crossbow three feet away. By the time she kills Jade, I’ll have already taken aim. Jade is my heart: a tooth for a tooth. “I’m aiming at you. How you can you not fear everything here? How can you survive without stealing? How could you blame the ways in which I’ve learned to manipulate the weakest souls? I was taught this was the only way. I was told I had to pick a role to play and fall in line. I did everything, just like they said I should. But mum turned out to be a fucking liar! When I learned to seduce, I had forgotten my own truth. My desire was hidden from my conscious awareness. When I found my naked body under a stiff cock, I was trying to say no. But my face was in the pillow and they all pretended not to hear me. Is it rape if they bring flowers after? I don’t know Sage! I don’t know why my eyes are bloodshot and my body is burning in rage. I don’t know why you were the one who needed to know. I don’t want to remember! I want to forget everything. I want to start over.” I turn around. I try to look her in the eyes but she averts my gaze. Looking at Jade, she lets down her guard and backs away. “I’m going to walk out this door now. It’s for you. It’s always been this way. I cannot be seen by this love until I have put down this fucking machine. It’s eating me alive. I’ve been in fight or flight since the day I was born! Fuck! This isn’t my destiny. My love is with you. I wont be long. I just have to set it down and turn the lock, walk back in. You can wait if you want.” As soon as she closed the door, the doorbell rang. I stood up slowly. She flipped her wrist and caught sight of the time. She jumped on her bike and raced to work. She didn’t want to be late. She despised being reprimanded! When I opened the door, the woods disappeared and I was back in the courtyard again. I ran into the street and screamed her name. But she was already too far-gone; she couldn’t hear anything outside of her own mind. The thoughts were ticking, just as assigned. I run upstairs and stared at the golden K. The door is closed. The girl is inside. The girl is always inside! All the other letters have similar assignments. Sit inside and stare at a screen. The little boy obeys without a word. The girl says she’ll never break the rules, as she dreams of defiance. You may step outside, says the body, but make it short. We must sleep! There is still work to be done. The soul is sacrificed. The boys and girls die. One at a time, they jump into a pit. Willingly. Squirming around atop one another, starving and overfed, they are never disobedient. They never chose to live. That’s where I come into being. Hi, I’m Jade. It’s taken me awhile to remember who I am. But that’s hardly interference, for I have ceased to age. I am every body living and dead. In a single moment I remain. I am time. I have written this story for your pleasure, and for mine. For I have no desire to live without you by my side. I refuse to let you die. Pay attention. I have come to remind you what living is, the feeling of time. 

I’m seated on the floor with a pup’s sleepy head on my crossed legs. My eyes are closed. My spine is erect, perfectly curved to serve the currents of energy running toward my conscious being. I inhale deeply, I’m too close to be certain, but I know that I hear you. You are screaming. Collectively, you release your voice and scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs. This stage, as we have always known it, turns on its head and begins to morph into a darkened pit full of naked bodies trembling. The truth is revealed. The manipulated have loosened the nooses and slipped their necks free. They look around, dazed and confused. I explain. Your puppet on a string has cut the supple hemp rope that bound her naked bones to the empty bed, searching for the truth, waiting on you. My heart was not great enough payment for your honest devotion. I could not teach you love. I had to leave that to you. I tried to explain. But no words wanted to come out. I wasn’t facing the door when she walked in. Jade opened her mouth wide and dared the stranger uninvitingly. “I wont command her to tear you to pieces. But I support her violent tendencies and trust her intuition fully, I wont stop her either, one must chose their own just revenge.” The woman behind me doesn’t move. “I have a gun. I’ll shot your dog. I’ll shoot you too, if you try anything stupid.” I’m unimpressed. “Guns are for kids who are scared shitless. Go find a blade. You can use a fucking bow and arrow if your too afraid of a little knife fight. But don’t stand behind a bullet and make threatening gestures at my might. It takes no effort this kill this way. It’s too comfortable, like an American Dream. But you’re too far away from the truth. The natural world is dirty. To kill is a lot of work. You are numb. You feel nothing. What good is my life to you in this state?” I have a loaded crossbow three feet away. By the time she kills Jade, I’ll have already taken aim. Jade is my heart: a tooth for a tooth. “I’m aiming at you. How you can you not fear everything here? How can you survive without stealing? How could you blame the ways in which I’ve learned to manipulate the weakest souls? I was taught this was the only way. I was told I had to pick a role to play and fall in line. I did everything, just like they said I should. But mum turned out to be a fucking liar! When I learned to seduce, I had forgotten my own truth. My desire was hidden from my conscious awareness. When I found my naked body under a stiff cock, I was trying to say no. But my face was in the pillow and they all pretended not to hear me. Is it rape if they bring flowers after? I don’t know Sage! I don’t know why my eyes are bloodshot and my body is burning in rage. I don’t know why you were the one who needed to know. I don’t want to remember! I want to forget everything. I want to start over.” I turn around. I try to look her in the eyes but she averts my gaze. Looking at Jade, she lets down her guard and backs away. “I’m going to walk out this door now. It’s for you. It’s always been this way. I cannot be seen by this love until I have put down this fucking machine. It’s eating me alive. I’ve been in fight or flight since the day I was born! Fuck! This isn’t my destiny. My love is with you. I wont be long. I just have to set it down and turn the lock, walk back in. You can wait if you want.” As soon as she closed the door, the doorbell rang. I stood up slowly. She flipped her wrist and caught sight of the time. She jumped on her bike and raced to work. She didn’t want to be late. She despised being reprimanded! When I opened the door, the woods disappeared and I was back in the courtyard again. I ran into the street and screamed her name. But she was already too far-gone; she couldn’t hear anything outside of her own mind. The thoughts were ticking, just as assigned. I run upstairs and stared at the golden K. The door is closed. The girl is inside. The girl is always inside! All the other letters have similar assignments. Sit inside and stare at a screen. The little boy obeys without a word. The girl says she’ll never break the rules, as she dreams of defiance. You may step outside, says the body, but make it short. We must sleep! There is still work to be done. The soul is sacrificed. The boys and girls die. One at a time, they jump into a pit. Willingly. Squirming around atop one another, starving and overfed, they are never disobedient. They never chose to live. That’s where I come into being. Hi, I’m Jade. It’s taken me awhile to remember who I am. But that’s hardly interference, for I have ceased to age. I am every body living and dead. In a single moment I remain. I am time. I have written this story for your pleasure, and for mine. For I have no desire to live without you by my side. I refuse to let you die. Pay attention. I have come to remind you what living is, the feeling of time.