Melody MaLady

She smiles sweetly. A bit seductive. Slithering in as security takes a smoke break. She whispers in my ear, “Hello honey. Having a hard time, huh?”

I am lost in the melody of her musing. She promises poise and perfection. A played-out song endlessly mesmerizing.

No. Music breathes life, even on repeat. She is the damsel of destruction. Coy in her captivating charm, she is a siren.

Almost erotic. Almost ethereal.

“I am Panacea.”

Deafening Stillness

My ribs are straining under the weight of breath.

For a full inhale draws awareness to the storm in my belly.

Spouting funnels of agony to the crown of my head.

I am alive.

No, no, no mustn’t be still.

To be still is to acknowledge. To permit. To accept.

Ribs straining.

Awareness of the storm

is agony.

I am alive.

They are dead.

Untitled

Destabilizing. That’s what they call it when you start to go mad. Teetering between reality and psychosis.

Who is crying?

She said “Ok we’ve taken a look around; now let’s go back.”

I hear her, but she seems far away. Or rather I am far away. Where is this place? I hear sobbing.

Who is crying?

My body sees. My eyes do not. I am deafened by blackness.

Who is crying?

I Put That Away

She became aware of heat on her shoulder. Fearfully, she turned her head to see. Her heart sank. I thought that was you. Her head grew heavy, sinking toward her chest, collapsing under the weight of anguish.

She howled, “I put that away!”

Startled at the volume of her own voice, she lifted her chin slightly.

The smell of the cooling September evening taunted her. “And yet you are afraid,” snickered a mocking voice from the trees. “Child, you are simply wearing a costume for them. I know the truth.”

She stood, immobile. Unsure. Only her eyes moved, darting rapidly.

Am I?