I started cutting again the night we first had sex, an hour or two after you left soaking wet, dripping beads of a new beginning, I was your first if you don’t count your uncle when you were younger. I don’t think we did but the hazel veil that covered your green eyes may have hid a different answer.
An hour er two after your violet red lips dug into my flesh leaving trace amounts of mint scented saliva I made the first cut with a broken razor I found lying on the floor next to the bathtub. The razor ripped and tore through my flesh as opposed to making a clean cut, leaving small flecks of skin to dangle dangerously over a jagged ravine, I felt like if you saw it you could relate and put some deep meaning behind it. I remember how you showered for almost an hour before hand, I listened carefully as you used every bit of body wash and bar of soap you could get your hands on in an attempt to wash more than just dirt and grease of your skin; you wanted every inch of your body to be pure, white and virgin for me. You spent almost 30 minutes brushing your teeth, flossing and swishing around mouthwash, I remember how you apologized profusely saying how hated to keep me waiting but I didn’t mind, I smiled, telling you to take your time.
You came out of the bathroom, naked, vulnerable and slightly awkward, walking to the bed I told you how beautiful the waves of your skin looked crashing against twin peaks of green, breaking up a peach coloured ocean and providing some sort of vantage point that would allow you to gaze across the entire ocean, the sky, it’s various constellations and even half the world if the weather was right. The waves of your finger tips graced the bed, leaning elegantly towards me you arched your back. I placed my hand over soft velvety flesh, I clenched my teeth to avoid letting out a gutless roar, the razor had become increasingly dull and caked with blood. I was slipping in and out of consciousness and I couldn’t stop. Your body beat in rhythm with mine, sweat poured from our skin bathing us in lustful decadence. The soft murmur of your voice grew into a thunderous moan, my body was slowly being encompassed by an ocean you could not control and one I could not swim in. I couldn’t count, I dared not think about the damage I had done, I flailed through an ocean trying desperately to keep my head above the water, trying desperately to grasp one more breath of air for my burning lungs and racing heart. The purity had all but vanished, it was a storm of deathly moans and throaty grunts, our pace increased as we raced towards the end. I looked up from below at two green peaks, I noticed how magnificent they were, oh how I wished to climb up to them, to see and all they have seen. With a high pitched scream violence tore it’s way out, the ocean tides rose to enormous heights, the white tips came crashing down relentlessly in a sea of mixed colour. I no longer could see green peaks, I could no longer feel purity as it grasped at my sides, pulling me in and under.
I haven’t and won’t be writing as much in the coming future, what I do post will more than likely be edits/rewrites of previous things I’ve written, that being said here’s part 1 of a short story
I’ll remember that night fondly as it drifts, rolls and crashes through my memory. Small, minute details seemingly meaningless transform, are added and taken away to fit the story, changing it entirely. We weren’t just 2 kids on a pier dancing frivolously under an absent moon, we were lightyear lovers who for an entire night, for a split second were frozen and free from our vicarious, tumultuous lifestyles. It started out as an idea, as all grand and eventually life altering ideas do ” what if we..” ” we should..”, formed and molded slowly around devil coloured flames that spoke ashes; the tales of last summer and it’s moth eaten grandeur. Our bodies slowly dug themselves deeper into the flesh of the other, searching for comfort, a certain warmth that the fire and flecks of the past couldn’t offer. Whispering into our ears, my lips gently touched yours returning the favour, fueling the idea, the romanticism, of a simple word whose complexity has left us in a cage just out of reach; “freedom”. Hearts began to pound like they did a year ago; the ferocity with which we stormed the Escanaba streets, torching every inch of cement, hailing death while simultaneously birthing life to every centimeter our tactile fingers touched. I pulled you in closer, with one cohesive inhale our feet took fly.
I’m an asshole whose emotional instability
Got the best of him
So I’ll play victim to a party of one
Pitying myself while trying to convince
That I wasn’t wrong in the first place
I thought I’d let you know
The only thing running through my head
Is the look of disappointment on your face
It’s been a day
I’m pathetic and I’m the embarrassment
My poetry’s amateur bullshit and I’ll walk away
Acting like this was never meant
Because you’re better off if I remain your friend
But only in the past tense
I was still too nervous to look you in the eyes when my bed became a battlefield for kisses born from precise, elegant explosions
Been kinda awhile
And where are
The soft bliss
Of your tender lips
The tactile sensation
Of your butterfly hands
24 ribs lacking
The feathery canyons
Your lips nuzzled
Into the flesh of my neck
I can feel the Earth
I feel nothing
Springs no longer bearing
Barely bearing mine
He told me
He doesn’t drink Grape Juice
It reminds him too much
Of the Wine he used to
Portage his canoe
Of the summer days
He would drink
the sky blue and
The river red
I’m not sure if you remember or not, I can’t blame you if you don’t because I barely do and I’m blaming myself for it. I thought it should be perfect, a summer and a half later and this is what it amounted to. Jared and Shane were there, so was Culla; the instigator, she was ultimately the one that set this in motion, I’m not sure if you knew that or not. I didn’t. I invited them all to avoid suspicion.
I chose the location because it holds a special place in my heart, a place you too, occupy. I chose the location because it ripped the better man from my bones and brought it to the surface of my skin, something you do with the plasma in my veins and the heart in my lungs. I chose the wood for the fire to feed based on their contours and how much they reminded me of the better parts of my life. I saw ants and insects crawl from abandoned chunks of driftwood, gnarled and warped, I thought the bigger it looked and more tortured it was the better to burn.
I grabbed your hand, it was mid-afternoon, the trees danced above our fingertips and the breeze embraced us. To the woods, river and nature we were one, the composition of two frail skeletons coalesced in a single bag of flesh. With every step our heart beat, a singular thump for the life of two humans when all the iron in our body could hardly support that of one.
Jared, Shane and Culla were left to warm themselves around the ashes of my former self while I danced away with you. They were fine to converse with whatever they had at hand. You looked back as I skipped ahead, my hand softly caressed our veins, you smiled and I smiled too. We ran under an old train bridge; your eyes caught the beauty of a shady spot of Cedar, running to it you screamed at the serenity. I stopped for a second and smiled, it was starting to rip at you. A moment later I came prancing, playfully tackling you into the sand, I chewed at your neck as the soft hands of my other half pushed me away. A thunderous crack erupted from the fire. Catching your eyesight I focused your attention to the bridge, your eyes lit up and the fire where our friends were roared out another thunderstorm.
I shook a dirty hand
Greasy and fetid from years of alcoholism
Light got lost in the caverns
That lined his
He locked himself inside
He told me I shouldn’t get girls
He’s had 2 DUI’s and he told me
I shouldn’t drink
I shouldn’t get girls
Just look at my hands
And I did
I looked at his hands