Tuesday 18 May 2010
21:51 | Posted by
Dale Darley |
Around my heart is a thick rope. Old, worn and ingrained with dirt. Its frayed from constant chaffing. The braids are as thick as my fingers. No one cares about the rope but for me its use is clear. It encases my vibrant beating heart like entwined digits, stretching as I breathe. My heart hurts, the pulsating muscle needs the tightly wrapped rope around it for protection. The bristles irritate it, but tell me I am alive. They force my heart to fight back. The rope is wrapped around 5 times and finished with a neatly tied bow. One tug of the bow and it will release my cocooned organ. When the time comes I will pull gently and allow myself to feel again. But for now the rope holds my heart in place. Inside the rope I place one small rose quartz crystal, its gentle pink energy strangely at odds with the pale dirty rope. They clash yet balance.
My mind wanders to what should be. Words cannot describe the simple pain that tears through my chest. I let my guard down. I let you in. You stayed for a brief moment and left. Stepped into my space and lifetimes whirled by. I knew you from somewhere, were you a lover in another life? I reached out, touched and felt you returned to me, I savoured the moments. My hands wandered over smooth flesh, my lips meeting yours told me it was meant to be. In times past it was a secret love cut short. In this life you may be gone, I will have you back. This time, I will catch you and not let go.
I left my mark on you, my hands poured healing energy into your heart, my kiss will linger on your lips, my smell in your nostrils and soft touch on your bare skin will constantly remind you. I gave you my blessing to leave me, it was a gift. I know you will be back.
In the lost moments of your anger what did you do? Did you reach for the blade that lay drying on the board. Feel the cold hard plastic handle comfortable in your grip. Squeeze it tightly whilst adrenaline rushes up your arm, stiffens your shoulder and wires your brain. Your thoughts clear, your intentions precise.
Will it only be one stab? Accurately placed, fatality guaranteed. Or will you stab in a frenzy, enjoying the viciousness of the attack?
Then stop as calmness returns, a small trickle of sweat running down your face, drips into your mouth, as you savour your work. The villain is down, you hear his (or her) last breath. The room bloody and splattered, his (or her) artery pumping its last drops of precious liquid.
No in that last moment you realise that the police would know it was you. You couldn't carry the lump into the garden, it would take all night to bury. After, you have to re arranged the plants, clean up the mess, burn your clothes, scrub the floors, all whilst devising a plausible story of why he (or she) was no longer with you.
In the next blink of an eye your sense returns, your grip on the knife of freedom loosens.
You turn to your tormentor and say "Yes dear, whatever you say".
Will it only be one stab? Accurately placed, fatality guaranteed. Or will you stab in a frenzy, enjoying the viciousness of the attack?
Then stop as calmness returns, a small trickle of sweat running down your face, drips into your mouth, as you savour your work. The villain is down, you hear his (or her) last breath. The room bloody and splattered, his (or her) artery pumping its last drops of precious liquid.
No in that last moment you realise that the police would know it was you. You couldn't carry the lump into the garden, it would take all night to bury. After, you have to re arranged the plants, clean up the mess, burn your clothes, scrub the floors, all whilst devising a plausible story of why he (or she) was no longer with you.
In the next blink of an eye your sense returns, your grip on the knife of freedom loosens.
You turn to your tormentor and say "Yes dear, whatever you say".
Saturday 8 May 2010
Yesterday I was talking to the lovely Michelle Clarke on the way back from a day trip to London. The car was filled with a great energy as we gassed about all sorts and I was reminded of a person who is sadly no longer a friend and of all of the people we no longer have in our lives because of their toxic energy.
We cannot change others, we can only change ourselves and we deserve to have only the right people in our lives who value us for who we are and give us the space and the freedom to be who we are. This short piece was written a while ago after a visit from this friend, who left me wondering why for some its always grey skies and for others even when its cold and damp outside relish the cool breeze on their faces and the fresh air as it hits thier lungs and reminds us of all the beauty around.
Awaking to the sound of the birds singing, you think bugger off
You walk by the running river and see only the concrete path
Overhead the emerging skies are filled with hope, you see rain
Through your window the blossoms are wilting, leaves turning brown
The tea has no taste; it’s a hot, wet morning drink
Toast like cardboard, salty greasy butter, jam sickly and sweet
You hate today, its like every other day, nobody cares, you know it
Hiding from the knock on the door, nobody calling for you
You get through life, nothing to look forward to, frequent hot, violent tears
Meanwhile on the other side of the street
You walk by the running river and see only the concrete path
Overhead the emerging skies are filled with hope, you see rain
Through your window the blossoms are wilting, leaves turning brown
The tea has no taste; it’s a hot, wet morning drink
Toast like cardboard, salty greasy butter, jam sickly and sweet
You hate today, its like every other day, nobody cares, you know it
Hiding from the knock on the door, nobody calling for you
You get through life, nothing to look forward to, frequent hot, violent tears
Meanwhile on the other side of the street
The curtains are open the daylight streams in, a new day begins
You awake with weak warm sun on your face, cocooned in your duvet, safe
The chorus greets you, natures daily miracle, sings to you
Looking out of your window, the outside calls for your company
Light perfume tea delicate on your palette lingers in your mouth
Alive today and every day, living in the now, freedom, you can touch it
Later when walking by the sea, thundering sounds stir your soul
Conversation and laughter with friends, white wine, black beer and chocolate
Kisses and gentle touches from your lover to come
You seize the day, nothing to be feared, everything to be savoured and learned
Meanwhile on the other side of the street
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