Runaway

I've been hiding for the past few days. Sometimes I just need to be incognito for everything to make sense. I'm no longer part of the anything, but I'm still something, you know? Anyway. Big shiut out to my friend who let me crash at his place for the past few days. I really needed to kust get away from myself and that was the perfect thing. Now that I'm back, I just lock myself up in my room and wait for the sun to go down. It's a bit sad, admittedly, but honestly I don't mind. At least I can keep my head and my thoughts away from the outside world. Also, it's been a while but I decided to free myself of my mind and get out of my body. A form of meditation. It worked so wonderfully well, I hate to admit. Well, the next piece is about my experience. I hope you enjoy it...

Sugar Cane Season

My Sugar Cane.
You, naturally sweet
But your tough outer shell scares me.
It reminds me of bleeding mouths screaming for more
More
Biting and scratching and peeling away at the hardness.
It hurts.
But it's so easy to get lost in the sweet familiarity of a cocktail of pain and pleasure.
A picture of cracked lips
Gums torn to shreds and teeth crooked
Gaping cavities fit for royalty
A tooth with a holy crown.
Slippery snake tongue forever the truthful jester
Lapping up the sweet juices of your innermost inner.
Sugar cane season.

Om Nom Nom

Doubling up again for this month. I sometimes see people walking around on the street who inspire me, not because of who they are or the amazing altruistic deeds that they have done, just the image of them and how I can see a bit of myself in them. Needless to say, the person who was walking along the street was holding sugar cane. It then clicked that it was actually sugar cane season, and I remembered the long afternoons sitting outside gnawing at the bamboo-like outer shell to get to the sweet fibrous sugary goodness in the middle. My gums would always end up being ripped to shreds and bleeding by the end of the ordeal, but somehow it was worth it. This next piece is somewhat of a comparison of that experience.

We Ran

We ran. Hand in hand to the end of the stars. Blind deaf and dumb to everything, eyes bright and hearts open. We ran, never turning away from what lay before us, galaxies in our eyes, mouths open, sucking in the starlight. We ran hard, we ran far, barefoot moonwalking. Hope hopping, heart pounding, toothless smile, swallowing up the mortals' universe. Taking in everything. Feeling with numb pores and false extremities. We ran. We ran so far we forgot where we started, Caroline. We ran so hard we forgot about time. Our time. We put our fate in time's hands and we got the starry eyed love we wanted. The yellow dress, blue shorts, white t-shirt love that we dreamed about together by ourselves. And we never wanted the dream to fade so, we ran, Caroline. We signed the deed without a thought. Hollow framed, skin and bones us. You held my hand and we jumped from the precipice of reality. Our past leaving, seeping through our pores. We might have stopped at the bottom when we caught our balance, but, we couldn't. Your hand felt so perfect in mine, and we ran. Away from the blurry mess behind us. The stars lay before us, and we didn't stop. We ran. Into space, our own reality of stars and planets and galaxies that were smaller. Smaller than you and I. We were bigger than the universe, bigger than everything. But then time, Caroline. We went so far we ended up at the beginning of the end. And we had to let go. We had to part ways. I'm sorry I'm only writing you now. You mean the world to me but, I felt the way we left it was for the best. Still starry eyed, still hearts pounding, mouths gaping galaxies, blind deaf and dumb to the world. Your yellow dress turned to black and gold as you turned away from me for the last time. A tear of moonlight ran down my cheek as I reminded myself that I loved you, and turned my back to go my own way as well.

I Don't Want To Remember

Stained blood red pieces of my soul left off the floor. The grass outside tickles my toes. My mind hurts from the outside in, my insides trying to get out, I... Send them the wrong way... Into the blood and emptiness that took so much away from me. It's hard to see, but soft to feel, the warm wet slippery remains of what was and shouldn't have been. Strands of my hair stuck between her teeth as she moves from between my legs. I have no regrets, but I loathe the pain that takes its place. Sip sip swallow. Make me come, beat my heart like a drum and break it. It's not that hard to fake it, I am, will, won't, be satisfied by my drunk pride or... Just drunk. Falling over, heading over, head over heels and... Its over. I didn't want it to end, but now I don't want to remember my member in her(breathe). I pulled off and tied up that soggy pup and sent it to the trash. I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't face the truth that was Ruth... No... What was her name again? I don't want to remember... I'd run away if I could but I'd want to come back. I mean return, of course. The intercourse was... not that great, on to dessert full of hurt and shut the fuck up you fuck up or I'll fuck you up the ass with this tall glass of whatever I want you to drink today because tomorrow, I don't want to remember. But im stuck in this loop of blood bean soup and vaginal goop. It left a weird smell on me that I can't seem to shake off. I shake off the excess; shake off the post-sex. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, just a long day" I don't know what to say. Its murderous this, bliss that I'll always never miss. And, I don't want to remember. I would look her in the eye, but I've seen deeper into her and the surface is different. I can't put my finger on it but... Shit, too late...

The Traveller

Once upon a time, there was a traveller. The traveller travelled all over the world. From Bangkok to Calgary the traveller travelled and saw the sights and was content with how much they had travelled. But one day, the traveller thought, "maybe it's about time for me to settle down in one place. I've seen them all, so let me choose my favorite and go live there!" So the traveller travelled to Japan, and found a beautiful house by a beautiful lake. But the traveller was not happy there. The lake brought too many mosquitos and the traveller got malaria and almost died. So the traveller moved, naturally. This time, the traveller found a house in Egypt. It was just the right temperature even in the hot desert sun. But, unfortunately, the traveller was constantly getting sunstroke when they left the thouse and almost died. So the traveller moved again. The traveller next found a village along the Amazon River that they had visited once before. The people welcomed the traveller back with open arms, and the traveller was happy. Until McDonald's came and started tearing down the forest around them, displacing that village and 126 others. The traveller had no choice but to move. The traveller found a number of places to stay that weren't satisfactory or healthy. The traveller found houses in The USA, but the systemic racism scared the traveller away eventually. Then it was Turkey, and then Greece, and then Hungary. But the traveller found the same refugee problem all over, and did not want to live around people who don't want to help refugees. The traveller travelled to South Africa, but the lions that roamed the streets were far too scary. Almost as scary as the racist people hiding in the crevices of the suburban facade and the terrible state of the local currency. The traveller travelled to the DRC, but that didn't last long. Need I explain this one?
Anyway, the traveller finally decided that the place to live would have to be somewhere quiet, and stable, and healthy, and not racist, and friendly. The traveller decided to try Swaziland. I mean, they had been there once for this half naked people festival and the weed was apparently very good. So the traveller found a place in Swaziland, and decided that this was the place for them, as long as they didn't have unprotected sex and didn't piss off the authorities, the traveller would survive. So the traveller stayed longer than they had stayed anywhere else. And told stories of all the places that they had been and things that they'd seen and the like to the children at the school that they taught at. One day, one child in the class nasked the deepest question of the traveller's life. "Comrade Traveller," because the traveller was a communist, "What have you learned from all your travels?" The traveller was shocked. They had never thought about what they had learned from their time on the road, only seeing and experiencing. But there was this one thing that always resonated within the traveller's mind when they travelled. So the tired traveller, sitting on the floor amongst the students said;
"Listen closely my children. Travelling is fun and all, and you see things and experience things you would never see if you were in one place. But nothing will ever, EVER be better than home." And just then, the traveller stood up and left. The students never saw the traveller again, but the children can still remember the look on the traveller's face as they left. It was a look of happiness. And they were sure that the traveller was going home.