Sweet Vice

My veins are pulsing blue liquid. My red painted lips are dripping with rain. I watch him from the alley as he walks across the road. He clings to the hook handle on his black umbrella, and his face is nearly absent to me. His right foot steps onto the curb. And I get faint seeing him come closer. Sick with pleasure for what I have planned. Like a cat, I lurk. Awaiting my banquet.

The numbness in my hands make me clench them into fists repeatedly. I want to hear him feel. Make him feel. What I feel. I am not of this world, and I don't ever want to be. I need my fix. His flesh. Our screams.

I shake my head to get the excess water off my razored layers. His converse have been replaced by black suede looking dress shoes today. And I watch and notice all of him, his white shirt with some buttons undone, his dark jeans, papers bent, not folded, and held loosely in his other hand. I see it all...except his face.

The street lights pop on and I turn my head quickly to avoid seeing them best I can. I take a few steps back and set my palms and left cheek against the sopping brick building. I've waited far too long for this. He will feel my agony, my lust, my sickness, my heart beat. He will...

I notice him.

"Come with me!" I grab his wrist so as if not to be forceful, though I will force if needed. And I don't want to make him drop his papers. I pull him off the sidewalk and into the dark. My dark.

He is not the slightest bit surprised. He raises his umbrella and curves his lips up slightly. His light eyes look so dark. "What is the matter dear? You look restless." His voice makes me feel my hunger even more. He looks straight into my eyes and I feel like my plans for tonight were already etched in our fates. I start to lose any composure that is left in my being.

"Cal, I need you, now." I Stare down at my 50's style teal heels. My tone was clear enough. He says nothing and nods looking forward into the dark.

We walk quietly and calmly side by side.

"Umbrella?" He arranges it so it covers us both.


"No." I say lucidly, and step aside


My insides are starting to burn. I feel my lungs melting. The crisp air is blowing the rain right into our faces. The sting of the drops break me. Straining normality I step in front of him. He holds both hands out and drops the umbrella, then the papers. The sky is all that lights us.


I turn carnal. Sweetly vicious. I grab his wrists knowing he can stop me. Knowing he wont. I slam them against the brick and his body follows. My timid appearance is cursed. It's really a lovely curse. I think.


I want to make this last.


My lips quiver, but my actions remain fierce. I let go of his hands and place mine on his chest. I want him exposed and alive. I tear his shirt open, making sure it stays on him. I scrape my nails down his cheeks and neck. He stares at me, giving himself up to my hunger, for it feeds him too.


My hand grasps his nape and the other grabs the waist of his pants. I can't contain it. It's creeping underneath my skin. I taste his lips and neck. But I find myself holding back from what I want. What I need.


"Show me." He says.


I pause.


"Show me what lives inside of you. Lay it, on me. Purge your every emotion. Right here. Now."

So I turn my tastes into bites. Ones of rage and shame; confidence, and hate. His bottom lip bleeds and my fingers trace it's path. Down his chin, onto his shirt. His white shirt, now soaked with cold rain and watered down blood. Now, I am ready.

"You too." I say tensing my jaw.

He grabs my waist and trades places with me. I tear him apart. He grazes over my skin with bloodied hands. He pulls my thigh up next to his side. I lick the scarlet from his neck. I feel. I can breathe. I laugh with sinister joy and look up to the sky.

I put my hands up the back of his shirt. And wrap my arms tightly around him. I feel his flesh under my nails. I want to mark that, too. His face lingers next to my neck. He inhales my scent. I rip open his skin, and he exhales with noise. A noise of love and anguish.

We continue and go deeper into the night and into each other. He is here with me, in my dark.

My body starts to feel free again, simple. I kneel down and let the rain pour over me. Cleanse me. He does the same. His arm raises slowly, and he places it on my back.

"Is it gone now?" He moves my hair from my face and softly touches my skin.

"You know it never is, Cal." I can't look at him anymore. I am scared. I am lost.

"Then we will greet it. Every time it comes. Every night we need to. We will reign over the dark. We will never let it reign over us." He stands up and grabs his umbrella.

I pull myself together and scramble to pick up his sopped papers, in assumption they are important.

"Don't worry dear." He motions me to him.

"But--"

"They are blank." I look at him confused.

"They will leave our presence here. This night doesn't need paper. It is written in blood. And that is how it shall stay."

We are closer to the street now. The light is entering my vision more and more.

"See you in the dark." I said.

"Indeed." He replied.

And we go our separate ways.

Achieving Immortality

You are under my skin,
peeling me with a steak knife
rather than a paring knife.
Yes, my skin is red
and my flesh is delicious.
Such a delicate balance of
bitter and sweet.
Juices melt out of me
and you lick your fingers,
as you keep peeling.

You always grab me.
Your favorite;
worth three pages
of decadent insight.
You say aloud that I
taste like the food of the gods.
Ambrosia!
Ambrosia!
You confer immortality.
You say; you...
can't get enough.

When you notice my bruises
your hands stop moving.
Will you love them?
Or will you cut them from me?

Decisions turn wild
when you partake of them too.

You have now eaten all of the red.
You say the best is sure to come.
The pages you set me on
become wet with nectar.
You take your knife
and place it gently on my head.
The blade is dripping my insides
onto my one leaf.
I smile.
You sever.

You continue to cut
and feast upon my glory.
You feel for a second
like you are penetrating magic
and distilling elements.

When you are finished
you are alone.
Just like you were before.
And you put my seeds
on your pages,
while the taste of ambrosia
still lingers.

Fat Commercialism

You're kidding right? You turn on your computer after whatever kind of long day you've had to check your email, or study, or whatever it may be. And when you sign in to get your email the headline at the top of the screen reads blatantly in huge black and white font:

Why is My Stomach Fat?

Well, first of all, shut up. No one wants to hear or read that. Secondly, if my stomach is fat, it's because I don't exercise, I'm unhealthy, and I eat like a pig. So I don't really need to be asked that. And thirdly, my stomach isn't fat, so why must those of us that are healthy be subjected to such questions?
I have the unfortunate thought that many more people than I'd hope, fall into such commercialism.


On another note...

Heather: "It's a semicolon. A semicolon. It's an A+, you said so yourself. It's art." She nods her head to the left and bites her lip, trying to be respectful. Maybe that semicolon will get semicolon cancer and die.

Anonymous: "Art has rules too Heather, everything has standards. Maybe in unconventional ways even, but standards still, that they must go by."

Heather: "Are you talking man made standards, or natural standards? I get the feeling it's the first. There are no fucking rules." And she walks away quietly.

The Second October

"What else is there for you?"

"The dark." He said. "Nothing left but the dark." He took my hand in his and gently kissed my fingers. "You still have time in the light. They want you. Go." He started to step back into the shadows.

"But I--."

"Go." He said, leaving me to walk into the light.

It is a threshold I don't want to cross. I want to say something or even look behind me into his eyes. He'd understand if he could see my eyes. But I don't. After I shut the door and realize he's really gone I am startled by Mark.

"Where have you been Beth?" He comes up behind me and swings me around. I am thoroughly disgusted with his breath and the joint in his hand.

"I needed air, Mark." Giving him the same arrogance he gave me. I feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable. "You like yourself don't you? You're 'ex' sent me a text you prick. And you know what? I don't mind. Really I don't. I've come to realize that's how normal people live." I stumble trying to pull away from his grip. "Just, leave me alone!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down there sweetie. Why are you always so weird?" The charisma everyone else sees in him is the bile I see. "You just need a little powder, and a little sex. Or a lot of both."

I tilt my head laughing in disbelief.

"Fuck you Mark. And fuck your life. And you know something? Envy does not become you!" I swiftly turn around and walk away with so much emotion in me I want to die to stop feeling it.

While making my way to the front door Jackie catches me. I don't want to pretend. He said he's too old to pretend anymore. Well my excuse is that it's just too much work for me.

Though I really just want to call her a stupid, vile, slut, I contain myself to the first nicest thing that popped in my head. "Why don't you take your $300 whatever name heels and your drunk ass home?"

"Ooh, bad night Beth? Well maybe you should wear a push up bra next time."

" Yea? You stupid, vile, slut. Go fuck yourself." I smirk. I realize the more angry I get, the more I swear. I wonder if it's unattractive to anyone. Do I care?


I take every side, back and hidden road on my drive home. I light up yet another cigarette. I always feel like I can't think without them. I guess it's that whole addiction thing. I miss him, our conversation wasn't enough for me. The smell of the moist, dying leaves are making my whole body shiver. I roll my window down more to inhale the wind in between the drags of my smoke.

I can't make them comfortable around me. Maybe he can. Maybe he just thinks it's something I'll grow into, something I'll learn as time passes. Wouldn't it be grand if he was right there? I shake my head staring into the woods ahead of me. Right there, in all black, waiting for me. Ready and willing to let me take cover under his cloak.

I stop the car and get out. I love this park. I sigh thankfully in the fact that no one is here. I put my back to the hood and push myself up to sit, wondering when we'll meet again. I'm alone. I feel so lucky to have a mind like mine, but I feel so empty. I got only a taste of his blood. And there aren't many around me who understand what he understands.

"You can hate everyone!" I yell to the tops of the maples. "I love everything, and hate everyone!" My head drops down.

He has heard me cry before, I couldn't relax my voice during a phone conversation. He has heard me cry damn it. I close my eyes lightly and repeatedly to make the tears disappear. I jump down and get back in my car so I can get my cell. After shuffling through my purse I pull it out and dial the number. 1-800-coke&sex. No Beth, you idiot. You stupid girl. Pissed at myself I slam the phone shut. I want to be me. Not them. Me.

Is he right? Will I love too much?

Finally I get home and run upstairs to put on my favorite pajamas. I wish he just lied to me. But it would have been in vain. I lay in my bed and dream of life; and death. So scared to one day find out which will be my fate.