Rule

I think I swallowed a demon.

Snuck on a spoon or washed on a wave of tea. A tiny black, what else would it be, demon that took up residence in a small shadowed corner of my mind.

Every little wrong, any stupid human blunder he snatched with little clawed hands and nibbled at me round my edges.

So my demon got fat. And my demon got strong. The little wrongs grew big but only on the inside. The blunders became failures, each more predictable than the last. I knew I would fail before I even began.

The memory of my demon is great. Any humiliation, fall, mockery or mistake is there in cinema-screen-full-HD-on-demand whenever you don’t want it. He projects it behind my eyes.

And so it goes. On and on again.

Now my demon is fat and content, lounging like the old king he is. He rules with the wave of a hand, a short cold laugh and one cruel word.

I am paralysed. A subject, obedient. Because I once swallowed a demon.

But content kings grow lazy. No reign can last forever.

Quietly, there will be an army.

 

 

 

And What’s Worse

Darkness is circular here.
Forced in to an endless
Spiraling tunneling down,
To where eyes can only see,
Because just enough
Light has snuck in,
Revealing mockingly,
That the night is
Trapped.
In here.
With me.

Welcome The Spreading Dark

The ink just bleeds.
Feeding thirsty paper.
Pearl moon blackens. 

It’s Always The Thing You Know You Don’t

My blind spot.
Is getting bigger.
These days.
As more seems
To pass by.
In the dark and
Carried on
Unknown rapid
Waters.
Causing swirling
Eddies,
And crushing mudslides.
While new rivers form.
All around.
Leaving me
Stranded.
Without even
The first clue.
Until I turn.
Too slow.
And the blind
Spot
Clears.

And They All Live Happily Ever After

I didn’t know.
What was expected
Of me on that day.
What would be drawn forth.
No.
Never had I thought.

And.
What makes me shudder
The most.
When the dark
Hugs tight and close.

Is that the ending
Fit so well.
Despite its horror.
It was the only one.

I could ever have
Written.

Ever have made.

Find Your Own Way

The light fell
Through the window.
And landed on the floor.
Where it crawled
In to the dirt and dust.
To hide and wait.
For someone,
Who was walking
In the dark. 

A Mechanical Meow

A click, clack whirr. 
And wheels turn in
Loving metal motion.
Slowly mechanic legs
With stop start beauty
Move in blinking grace.
Stretching as they
Warm unfeeling,
In the afternoon sun.
And an elegant bronze
Tail taps the ground. 
From the only animal,
The next version.
Who can stay alive
In this dark
Burnt world.

My Long Lost Hero

Clipping my cloak with
Silver around my neck.
For the very last time.
My feet slipping neatly
In to other footprints.
I follow that journey
You finished long past.
A ghost in your wake.
Hoping, just praying that
Each and copied act,
Will lead me onward.
Until I am entwined,
With that same darkest fate.
The rising of clouds.
That spirited you away.
For no matter what.
I will do anything.
Face the end.
Just to be like you.

And So I Tell You

He whispered
At midnight.
With the deepest
Of hopes and
Slimmest faith.
That the night
Would hold his secret,
Tight and safe.
Not a gambler.
But a burdened man,
Who had wished
Those words gone,
Away from his lips,
In to the arms of
Sleep and dreams
And so he went. 
Toward the morning.
Freedom in his heart.
Lighter in his step.
But always scared
Of the dark. 

Beware The Single Prints

My foot fell,
In the blackest
Of puddles.
Small it seemed.
Nothing unusual.
Until I had walked on
Many miles and more.
Still I dripped and
Trailed black water.
And nothing I found,
Could dry or stop
This leak, that now
Came straight from
My pale skin.
Even to this very
Day I am known
By my single
Dark step.
And cursed for
Having one foot
In a watery
Grave.