Traffic lights

 

Piercing eyes gaze out as

the familiar streets roll on.

Another late-night taxi ride,

as the shadows beckon her

home before sunrise.

 

But something...

Something..

Something

doesn't feel right,

the driver's eyes

are all over her.

She can feel

their slimy surface

rolling over her pale skin.

Pouring through the mirror

warping her into something

she doesn't want seen.

She can feel them undressing

her velvet layers, holding down

her blackened wings. Triggered.

She shivers.

 

A grin, as he stares

back at the road.

She pulls down

her skirt to

cover any skin

and quickly she thinks,

panics.

Escape routes.

Traffic lights. Static.

 

Green.

 

Can I get him to stop?

How can I get out?

 

The radio rages

in her ears.

Some song

by the Smashing

Pumpkins, about

being a rat in a cage,

but all she hears

is a muffled heartbeat

as she checks the mirror again.

 

The eyes are

on her again.

This time

there is something

less human,

almost animal. 

A beastly

grunting snarl

of a stare.

 

She could swear

that in the

dull cab light

they glare...

 

Yellow.

 

Red.

Stop sign.

She screams. Rage.

He reaches over.

She snarls

and bares her teeth. Uncaged.

 

As the moonlight

glistens over her face,

to show her fangs braced.

A bullet with a smile

and sharp teeth, unleashed.

She swipes the hand away,

grips tightly to his neck

sucks his life like a cocktail.

 

And she sits back,

licks her lips,

and thinks,

you picked

the wrong fare today.

Sucks to be you.

Worlds apart

 

I missed            the               trick  in               your   sci fi        eyes.

The      tell.       The     give away    smile.          I        missed    the

lie.          The       uncertain    way  you    wear       your         skin,

like it              barely      fits,    merely     a      costume       worn

to       mask        something    else      within.    I         missed

the     way          you           spoke   in        strange      tongue

Leaving     a        weird        taste   in     my         mouth,  

that        I  wanted     to                 always      consume.

I         missed         the   sound    when        you  sang.

The unbound      atoms                   that        would

wind          into                a        storm            at 

the edges              of                      everything.

 

They say     men        are            from Mars

women                  from                  Venus,

but                 your                      passport

would    be               even              more   

mysterious,          plotting       a course  

across             the                        stars.

Somewhere                           beyond  

human                    comprehension,

 

somewhere                      beautiful,

where         flowers                grow

only in          rainbow    meadows

and           the               waterfalls   

are           diamond              light

in the     gorgeous           purple

moonlight.  The             scenes.     

The setting suns.     The sights.   

The delights           embossed

into your   being.       And  I

wish  to           touch      the    

stars          with         your  

pulsar      heart   beating

with    mine,          two

comets  in  a  strange

dance       through

space and time.

Where nightmares crawl

 

I speak in poetic wonder.

I write my lullaby dreams.

I sift through fairytales

and I sip on ethereal streams,

when I drift seamlessly across

the threshold of night

and let my eyes slip into that

vast field of delight.

 

I speak in songbird serenades.

I swiftly let them celebrate

the ending of the day,

as they roost in my head.

I slowly close my eyes

and I walk on fields

of cloud soft light.

And as I close my eyes

I feel alive.

 

For a second.

 

Then.

 

It happens.

 

The darkness descends

across everything.

The echoing sound of the end

looming in.

The booming drone of a piano

trilling on a key.

A wilting feeling takes over me.

and I’m pulled down.

 

Down.

 

Down.

 

Grabbing the slimy walls

that were my bed

as I am sucked

further down,

deeper into dread.

The endless chasm.

The endless fall

from which there is no climb.

 

Dreams flung against the wall

out of which nightmares crawl.

 

The monolithic bedside cabinet

looms high over me

and I’m at the bottom

of a well of misery.

The dripping of a million tears

echoing around the trilling key’s

discordant screams.

The clock in the sky melts

into a viscous mire

and time floods over me.

 

And I’m watching my own dreams

splashing against the floor

in worthless puddles

and I’m no longer sure

if my mind is aware

or if I’m even here,

or if here is real anymore.