HER
The place I'm in looks to be nothing but a dream. A realm of familiarness yet also of distance. But that's not the case. I've covered myself with a few lacerations here and there with a cooking knife, hoping each one after the other is the true cut to wake me up. I'm obviously in the kitchen of the house I stay. Dark. My mind tells me I shouldn't be here.
I can see a reflection of a face on the mirror. It's laughing and keeping a grin on it's self. I have no idea if it's laughing at me or of something different. I've hopes that this reflection is not of me.
Suddenly I get a tingle in my left hand. I stare at it, watching the flesh melt away and turn into a silhouette of it's former self. My mind then begins to race. I ask myself, "What kind of hell have I gotten myself into?"
I want to leave so bad but my body wants to stay. A voice in my head keeps telling me I shouldn't be here. That I have to get out. Yet, my feelings tell me to stay because I am comfortable. I'm listening to my feelings.
I sense a figure behind me. I turn to look. A figure of bliss. A figure of light that gives me a sense of new directions. A figure of a she. I want to reach out and grasp this pure being to take me away but I just stand there doing nothing but stare, covered in my blood from the hands to the elbows.
The figure turns around as if to finally say hello. I have no idea how long she had been there. I try to speak. I want to speak. But still I just stand there. I know in the back of my head, this figure, this person, this woman is my ticket out of here. She's the answer to all my questions. She's now staring at me.
I turn away. Too embarrassed to acknowledge because of the state of physical imagery I am in. I keep imagining that she's appalled with me. I look back at her and she's still standing there expressionless. As if I'm not even there.
I look to the left of me. In the darkness I can see an image of myself and her finally grasping one another. I see the sigh of relief on my face as well as a smile on hers. Then the image goes away.
To the right of me I look. I see myself standing over her. She's looking away from me. Then the darkness grasps me. This image then disappears as well.
I look back now at her infront of me. She's still staring. Still as if I'm not there. Still as if waiting for me to make the first move.
Something in the darkness behind her grabs her shoulder and turns her away. No matter how much light she emits from her figure, I can see nothing. She begins to smile while turning away from me. I finally move and reach out. Too late. She is then led away and disappears.
I'm by myself again. I miss her already. I look down towards the floor. The room has changed. I've found myself now in a box.
The box begins to fill with water. As time goes by, I'm now being pressed against the ceiling of the box. I'm not restraining. I don't even try to take a last breath before the water fully envelopes me inside the box.
I am born.
My fate has been predetermined. I am to live with these images.
The place I'm in looks to be nothing but a dream. A realm of familiarness yet also of distance. But that's not the case. I've covered myself with a few lacerations here and there with a cooking knife, hoping each one after the other is the true cut to wake me up. I'm obviously in the kitchen of the house I stay. Dark. My mind tells me I shouldn't be here.
I can see a reflection of a face on the mirror. It's laughing and keeping a grin on it's self. I have no idea if it's laughing at me or of something different. I've hopes that this reflection is not of me.
Suddenly I get a tingle in my left hand. I stare at it, watching the flesh melt away and turn into a silhouette of it's former self. My mind then begins to race. I ask myself, "What kind of hell have I gotten myself into?"
I want to leave so bad but my body wants to stay. A voice in my head keeps telling me I shouldn't be here. That I have to get out. Yet, my feelings tell me to stay because I am comfortable. I'm listening to my feelings.
I sense a figure behind me. I turn to look. A figure of bliss. A figure of light that gives me a sense of new directions. A figure of a she. I want to reach out and grasp this pure being to take me away but I just stand there doing nothing but stare, covered in my blood from the hands to the elbows.
The figure turns around as if to finally say hello. I have no idea how long she had been there. I try to speak. I want to speak. But still I just stand there. I know in the back of my head, this figure, this person, this woman is my ticket out of here. She's the answer to all my questions. She's now staring at me.
I turn away. Too embarrassed to acknowledge because of the state of physical imagery I am in. I keep imagining that she's appalled with me. I look back at her and she's still standing there expressionless. As if I'm not even there.
I look to the left of me. In the darkness I can see an image of myself and her finally grasping one another. I see the sigh of relief on my face as well as a smile on hers. Then the image goes away.
To the right of me I look. I see myself standing over her. She's looking away from me. Then the darkness grasps me. This image then disappears as well.
I look back now at her infront of me. She's still staring. Still as if I'm not there. Still as if waiting for me to make the first move.
Something in the darkness behind her grabs her shoulder and turns her away. No matter how much light she emits from her figure, I can see nothing. She begins to smile while turning away from me. I finally move and reach out. Too late. She is then led away and disappears.
I'm by myself again. I miss her already. I look down towards the floor. The room has changed. I've found myself now in a box.
The box begins to fill with water. As time goes by, I'm now being pressed against the ceiling of the box. I'm not restraining. I don't even try to take a last breath before the water fully envelopes me inside the box.
I am born.
My fate has been predetermined. I am to live with these images.