You glow, sweetheart… so much brighter than the sun.

The sun is falling, and night will come, and in the encrouching darkness, we are left, in the theft of day, and light’s cleft, you sit on a tree, looking at me.

I am wondering what there is even left to see. I am the act of dying of the idea of bee, I am the seed of hating the idea of me.

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I was walking through the woods, not sure how I got there, or why, just remember waking up walking, I am alone in this memory, and walking careful not to alert animals to my presence, and I am scared, not sure of what, but I know it is not human…

You come up to me, I do not know who you are, or what you are, I mean to say….

I just know that, the instant I see you

I know I am safe.

You tell me you feel it too, a pulling in the air, as if we…

Are in the ocean, and there is an undertow.

You talk to me, and I feel like you are keeping us above water.

I am in the woods, so it doesn’t make much sense, because it is the woods, not the ocean, but I feel the sense that we are always on the verge of sinking, as if we are treading water. She keeps her head close to mine, and every so often, I can feel her breath. She whispers in Spanish in my ear, I am not fluent, so I don’t know what she is saying, but I feel safer with every word she says, knowing only that as I continue, i am getting safer.

I wake up sweat drenched and alone, but not anywhere I started. I am in the woods, alone, there is no one around. I look for the woman, and no one is to be seen. To this day, I am convinced I met a ghost in those woods that saved me from drowning in a swamp. My name means from swamp, I wonder to this day, if this was some sort of vision of a relative.

She glowed with radiance she glowed with dark, she glowed with shadow, she glowed with the power of heart, she was so sad, her face was marked with tragedy and abandoned heart, her dog had no name, she knew no call, she followed her owner anyway, girl who was tall, both in stature and in tale, she was a liar, who was prone to fail, addicted to fiction and tall tales,

I am Shelia, that is my name, I am a Shelia, a girl, a dame.

A man of soot told me a lie, and now wolf, do I cry.

I played with fire, and he hurt me bad, stole my dog, now I am sad.

Do you see?

I am staring at a mirror, and seeing something that most people would argue is not there, and having a conversation, that most people would argue is with no one, but it is someone I know very well, who is not myself.

She tells me she loves me, and asks me to follow her, she is an idiot. I cannot walk through glass, well not in this way anyway, I can walk on it, not through it. I tell her this and she tells me

“If you step on me, you will surely die”.

I am aware of the problems that come with stepping on shattered glass with two feet, thank you for the reminder.

I come closer, and she kisses me, and my mouth starts bleeding, but she tastes good, like lavender and vanilla.

I walk out of the room, and hear a crash, I go back in the room and the mirror is broken.

I am sorry for the lack of clarity.

Baby please, get off your feet, and meet me on the ground.

Come back down, and hear the resounding sound of quiet.

You are daylight’s riot.

I wish only for quiet.

You are my fire fly. You are sunlight’s spy, a flashlight in the comfort of night sky. Hanging lights up so you can see, every bit of nature’s landscape clear to you, the lover of blue sky and morning dew.

Nothing of night pleasant or in view, you seek to chase away the dark vacantness, that is my permanent vacation nest. In everything you strive to erase or chase away, is every place I desire to stay.

I am deathly quiet

She is staring at a candle that is underneath a sheet. The candle is on the wall of a house that has been abandoned by its owner’s long ago. She tells me that she feels the pain of the walls, and I ask what she means, she says she too has been abandoned long ago. I tell her that human beings should not have owners, she laughs, and tells me she does not understand why I am telling her this.

I am fading into the walls.

I explain that she is not like the house, which has been abandoned because the house was owned by humans, she tells me she knows how that feels, and I ask her why, this time not bothering to remind her about her humanity. She tells me that since she could remember she always had the company of a male stranger, and now has no one. I tell her we should leave this house, getting an eerie feeling by all that she has revealed, she says she does not think she can, and I tell her she can do whatever she likes. She asks me if I mind if she stays in this house because it has always been her home. I tell her I am leaving, she refuses to come with me.

I left the house in the middle of the night, and the woman followed me, despite her claims that she intended to do the opposite, when we were about 50 feet from the house, I turned my head, and saw her running back towards the dreadful house, I did not follow her, afraid of what drew her back to it’s unearthly darkness.

She is not like you, so she is going down, I love you sweetheart and your friend would rather lay down.

She stole your money, and I’ll give it back, little do you know, this is all an act. We tricked you, baby, but you don’t know. I wanted your attention and your friend did know. Now you are sitting thinking she left you here, she is buying something of which you won’t here. I covered for her, because without her, I would never have met you, and after today won’t see you again, and this I bet you, so right now, I will tell you anything you want to hear, and yes have anything you want, I have it here.

I don’t know when she will be back, she did not tell me, and yes she will be back of this I assure, I implore you please relax, your insanity and anxiety is such a tax, I love your voice honey, and love your face, I have something that I am sure will make your pain slow pace.

Okay, she is back no go away, and if you are ever in need you know where I stay.

I fly through worlds of darkness, resting in dark nests, I am an observer of everything.

You caw outside my window, which makes me look up.

https://www.mindbodygreen.com/articles/crow-symbolism

I am the crow.

The omen is a not just an omen, but a messanger, sent to dispense spiritual law, traveler between worlds, seer and traveler of a divide in time.

Haver of both it and me and no longer, possesser of item. I am simply the crow.

I

am

Complicated too, and complicatedly the crow, because I am not a crow, I am a human being, obviously, because crows can’t type letters, but I am listening the caw of the crow as I write to you, whoever is listening, even if ut anyone is at all, and

Where do you go?

What do you see?

What do you desire me to be?

Daily writing prompt

What do you wish you could do more every day?

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I am alone in the woods, on a path, in the middle of the night.

It is around three in the morning. I am guessing, there is a complete blackness to the sky, and silence that suggests the birds are still sleeping.

Looking up at the sky, I wonder if anyone, or anything is awake yet, if there is another animal that is like me and drawn to frantic pacing at this time, somewhere anywhere.

I listen for any noise that would hint of any kind of life at all, but there is nothing, there is an absence to the air, that suggests lack.

I breathe and feel like sound is missing from the universe, unsure if there is something wrong with my ears, if I have lost my mind completely, if I am tripping myself out, what it even means to hear at all.

I cough. I can hear myself. There is sound.

Looking up at the sky, I trace the existence of me, as something separate from the night, I can feel my hands, they hurt. The coldness of night bites into them with every movement, a slicing that feels like sharp needles, sticking into them with every movement.

I cough again, and can hear the sound, radiating into the echoing darkness.

I sigh. I am relieved to have released that in this all consuming starkness of light, I am still separate, able to feel myself, as an entity which exists in a universe of parts.

It is very dark. I can see nothing in front of me. The moon is absent from the sky, and there are no stars, blinking, I think I am crying. I am not sure. I don’t remember what that feels like, or how long I have been standing here, and cannot tell if I am looking down or up.

Moving my neck, I figure out I am staring up.

I blink my eyes. Nothing.

I am still shrouded in the all consuming darkness.

It is very cold, the cold has spread from my hands to the rest of my body, feeling like a bitter aching, hurting like sharp knives with each movement, but without the sound of reassuring wind, that makes me aware of passing storms.

I am not sure if this bitter cold, if it is something characteristic of the season, or of it is something I am feeling in this spot, right now that is very much specific to me.

I am sitting by the water again. I am looking out into the ever expanding nothing, I say ever expanding because the lights of the streetlights are going in and out and in and out next to me. They turn on and off, not on a timer but timed randomly with something. I have noticed that they respond to my movement, they turn on and off as if communicating with something in me, but I do not know what it is. They seem to respond to certain kinds of thought, but it is uneasy to place. I am not sure what it is. There turning on and off varies not by the kind of thought being positive or negative, that does not matter, they respond to recognition and the level to which the thought is thought, to intensity not to the kind of intensity.

I move towards them and it seems to me, like they are dancing with me. They turn on and of and on and off on my skin, and it is almost as if I can feel a warmness, that is not heat related. It is a warmness felt in something else, I feel it in my soul. I do not know what that means.

I just know that when I move the lights turn on and off as I think they are going to. I walk and they follow me, they light my way or shade it.

I do not know how to deal with this, what to do about it.

I just know I do not walk in the dark ever.

The mist ascends over the river in the dark light absent night of a missing moon, that is not missed, simply missing, a vacant blankness with no space indicated that marks its blankness, no spot where a moon would even be, a blank canvas of lack of light.

I am standing staring out over the water, knowing only that there is even water there, because I am familiar with the place I am. Other than my presence of mind and awareness of where I am placed in time, there is no indicating factors that would suggest that I am anywhere at all, the night is black and I see nothing in front of me, and nothing below me.

I stare forward into the nothingness, keeping my presence of mind, by meditating on the painful cold that pounds in my skin, the rain is falling down on my hands and arms now, I say it that way.. because they are bare, I can’t feel it touch the rest of me.

I look out over the water, the only thing letting me know there is any separation between me and any of this, any perceiving instead of being oneness, is the fact that I remember being a being that sees.

There are slight beings of light on the water now, they dance in the nothing, looking like shadows, which is strange, because there is nothing to cast shadow on, they are dark, as dark as shadow and reflecting to my eyes or to my knowing, not sure which, and they speak to me, somehow I know them, I know their pain. They pace across the water saying nothing, and I can feel their pain, and then, it all fades, a light comes on, and I look up at a street light, there must have been a power outage.

A man is sitting on a bench alone, he asks me how long I have been there, says he didn’t know there was someone else watching, like him, the dancing on the water. I tell him I don’t know, and we leave it at that. He walks away.

https://christinebialczak.com/2023/03/07/simply-6-minutes-welcome-to-the-challenge-03-07-2023/#like-21020

I am going to just write and see what happens

I stab at my chest, in grave unrest, not with needles or knife but with address

a dress of grave site undressed by a dress. I am not stressed, or un-rested. I am just disconnected but I am fine. I am fine I am mine. I am connected to nothing. You cannot touch me. I am floating. I am nothing

Forever away, forever away.

Get the **** away from me

starry night of stabbing madness. I am touching everything and nothing

and I can’t spell anything right write write right

My hands don’t work. I have no clear thoughts

METH
Them

stupid addict

addict to pain

I am darkness

I am light

I am schizophrenic after thought of bite

I hate myself I hate you.

I am the moon.

I found this interesting new spot. I was walking late at night and had glasses on because I have astigmatism. I do not think I mentioned that, I only mention it now because I think that is what caused me to notice the coin. It was a very strange coin, that I had never seen before. I think a street light must have caught it just right to reflect onto my glasses in a way which was disconcerting for a second, and I almost walked into a taxi. The guy was a real asshole about it. I threw something out of my pocket at his car, fuck that is where my phone went. No matter, I will just get another one anyway.

I still have the coin somewhere, the back of the coin appears to be removed, but I am not sure how, and for the life of me I cannot figure out where the coin is from. I do not wish to share details about the exact nature of the coin on this website. I don’t trust whoever is reading this, and something about the coin is making me paranoid. I will share more about this later, maybe. I am doing this mostly for myself anyway, so I have no idea why I am trying to be polite to you.

Damien

We can put her here for now. I throw the filthy bitch to the ground and when she falls, I can hear two of her fingers break, they sound like the snapping of branches. I start laughing, and realize I am alone, where is he? I can feel the slow and steady heaving panic setting in, but I am not sure why? I don’t need him to move, I have no home, so I belong nowhere. It is getting dark. I have no idea how long it has been since he left or I lost sight of him.

“HEY BITCH! OVER HERE!”

I laugh, the pounding stops, and we have dinner, it is some sort of stew, the insanity of normality is astounding.