Monday, January 24, 2011



like knife.,


want like

always i

for how

Friday, January 21, 2011

inside the diner the tension grew

inside the diner the people are quiet. the waitresses are dressed in a sort of light blueish smock reminiscent of hospital garb. and the whole place looks oddly sanitized. the people sit in comfort as they slowly talk below there breath. as i continue to stand there for a moment of fleeting confusion. a young girl greets us in a soft subtle voice as if avoiding to wake the dead. she stands in a upright and most proper matter. her hair a sunned down blonde. tied back and with a pair of glasses that appear to be a extension of her face. she points out a booth to the back and to the right. and as i look over the menu i order the breakfast special. as the young lady hovers over us glaring down with a glowing dispositon. i face my way across the table and crack a smile. and i can still remember her when she's young. the older she gets though the seemingly more youthful she becomes. an i find myself just then in a state of almost none existence. my mouth won't open and the words glimmer and fade before they fall out of me in mid air. the feeling begins to dim slowly as i start to ask her how she became to get herself in here. she begins to tell me that after i left the problems i had continued to worsen. as if some bubble had burst and the devil had took housing somewhere inside me. ''you always had that quality about you that made everything just kind of wash away. as if all my trouble s had not been there to begin with. '' i sat there, as the flood gates opened and all the memories past came rolling in with the piled up mounds with disease called guilt. and i had no idea, i made things this way. and again she began to speak. '' i don't blame you though.'' '' it would have came boiling up no matter if you where there or not''. i looked at here trying my best to bring my voice up and over my chest. '' i had no idea. it's all my fault then''. '' i am so sorry. for i have regretted that day every since''. everyday afterwards the thought of you would gather up inside me, trying to spew out as i tended to lock them away''. she looked at me sweet eyed and tired. '' really, believe me when i say it's not your fault''. '' you know the childhood i had, i have never blamed you and i never will''. now please lets forget this drab talk, i want to hear more about you''.and so i began. i told her about my marriage, how it had ended, and my life afterward up until this point. omitting the things i thought to early. and so on and so forth. our food showed and the morning went and turned into the rest of the day right in front of us outside or window. we talked about nonsense and times past. but even then all through the day my conscience still bugged me about the reason i came here in the first place. as my nerves where racked. and my mind fogged.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

in the morning the light is stifled. as it tries to make its way through the blinds on the window beside me. i get up and make my way to the living room just outside. i get ready, dressed and suddenly hear the slightest knock on the door. i walk over and turn the knob as it creaks and moans and makes its way open. and there she stood. so beautiful. as her hair huddled down against her shoulders. her eyes a cosmological event. she always had this graceful obscurity to her. something thats out there for everyone and only me too see. as her lips moved the earth shook. ''well good morning sleepy. i thought maybe you would like to go get some breakfast maybe. talk'' . i looked at her with a grin, a smile, and off we went to the diner attached to the main house. as we walked outside through the halls and disappeared in the distance. i continued to ask her what kind of place is this anyway. she gave a little laugh and went on to tell me it is a kind of commune, a hospital, a place for people to come and wind down from whatever troubles they might have.

Monday, January 10, 2011

((part two)#..................................................

the stale air outside is dying, and the temperature drops with every minute the day is dead. i knock on the door and the sound reverberates through the walls and echo's in my heart. and as the door creaks open her face is beautiful. and her scornful eyes are happy. her hair is long and as dark as death. with it down, messy and half covering her face. she begins to ask me what i am doing here. and as i might recall me saying that my heart grows weary. inviting me in i find the rooms are full, and the desk in front lays lonely and full of dust. ''and i am sorry i came so late i had to one last time see you''. she gives me this puzzled look, shakes it off, and tell s me that we should talk in the morning as the night is short. '' the guest rooms in the house in the back if you don't mind.'' i nod and begin to follow her down the dark narrow hallway through the house that has no end. she set s me down and the walls are cracked, and chipping with the green paint that falls from the walls. as the light fictures set the room a buzz. the windows are glazed, and the furniture is set in a somewhat idiosyncratic pattern. a strange smell seems to emanate from the walls. from what i cant seem to tell from what form it came. the rug of a dead bear lay in the centre as if hibernating in the shackles of humanity. and in the back to the right lay the bedroom. i make my way over and turn the lights on. inside the room lay bare. a bed, simple side table, and the same cracks in the ceiling that i saw in the walls before. and a nights sleep right now might be the best thng for me. so i turn myself in. and as sleep comes over and the night grows dim.

rise up my mountains and raise the dead.

as i rise up the mountain the trees grow thick, and the sky goes black. the animals dance on the side of the road as the headlights stare out and over the pavement watching ever so subtle movements. and the shadows fall through the cracks of the oncoming light. the frost outside is taking bites of my windshield. and the smell is aggravating. as the city grows dim. the road ahead is going back and forth and thrown all over. my mind wanders in blank statements of unconscious death. and my palms sweat. as the heaters on. i turn the corner and the lights are off. so pulling in the driveway, i stop, open the door, and hear the crunch of the frost below my feet. the air hits me suddenly and begins to huddle against my chest. making it hard to breathe. up ahead the door is closed. the curtains drawn. and the moon is beautiful. i start up the stairs with a sigh in my chest, a step in my feet. and up ahead she's been dead for years. and years before.