The Anxious Wait

Tiptoeing around the fires,
A cold winter's night chills me through
And when I think of you all alone
The glass in my gut moves further.

I gag and I moan but there is no end
To the anguish until I hear your voice again
Gracefully dancing, I feel the hot stones
Burning my feet beneath my slippers

But my bones just won't warm up -
I shiver as melodic music plays
Up and down my vertebrae
As keys upon the piano in my bedroom

I must be losing my mind
Because time just doesn't make sense,
And the music won't stop,
The voices told me I cannot.

And I keep dancing,
Tiptoeing around the fires:
My bones freezing and my feet
Just an inch from the flames,

But they won't let me stop,
And the music won't stop,
And the glass in my gut keeps
Cutting and tearing me up...

If I can't hear your voice tonight,
Then I'll never be alright again.
Time swims across the melody,
And the night just will not end.

Itching Underneath

Ivory tusks trapped under skin
Aching and swelling within the rush
Bursting with yearn to feel the wind
Which envelopes the sundered, dead brush

Swaying my desire to be freed
As the skeletons of old bones spread
Gently under the depressed, old tree
Witness to my claw-marks seeking tread

My blood boiling, writhing, tingling nerves
Wishing for freedom from this cage
From these monstrous, clinging flesh curves
I once believed were beautiful

Without the pain and the hollowed heart
My soul, empty isolation
Happy becomes a moment of art
Of love, of divine emotion

Moves the ivory, the teeth and bone
To rest within the muscle walls
Scratching the innards no more alone
No more at all, the loved one calls

The swelling to calm and settle slow
Upon a midnight, eyes of sleep
His voice is heard once again, below
The depressed, old tree's kept from weep

One more time before the cold night ends
His light rays shine upon me some;
Thawing every touch the love would send
Beating fast, flesh has overcome

Dread of nightmare steals the sleep time
His voice rings clear to stall the fears
Wings keep safe as a blanket of lyme,
Stone to keep away streams of tears.

Radiant Cosmos [Love]

I take your hand into mine
Cosmos skin with vibrant lines
Mixture swirls beneath the bones
Phosphor clouds melodic notes

Sunshine stars gracing your wake
Dotting night within your stake
Deals were made up yesterday
Among your dark, here to stay

Ember arms with methane sight
Sparks and flint, tinder alight
Nighttime clouds smear the skies
Eyes of ember swarm like flies

Dancing softly, warm to warm
Gold filling your blackened eyes
Static plays my finger tips
Brushing your skin, beating skips

Waves bubble up my hair
Refreshing, cleans to repair
Shuffled memories, made to fear
Lonely thoughts I'd always hear

Golden liquid scorches veins
Tickles, sears anguish away
Planets line among the stars
Within your eyes, no more scars

Itching, molten gold fills in
Cracks and damage from their sin
Power pulses, aura brings
"Pull me deeper with these rings"

Tied among the stars on fire
Can you ever love a vampire
Ebony hair, skin of snow
Monster hidden under glow

Shapeshifter -Part IV-

This woman I stole had been in impeccable physical health, but she had the anxiety of someone who had been through more than a few incidents in her life. I didn't have time to reflect on it as she sucked me into this deep conversation that I was letting her trap me into. I was a willing participant, strung up in her web of anecdotes. Her words always gave me both a flutter in my stomach and a tightness in my chest, like a titan squeezed around my lungs with an enormous grip. It was both familiar and incredible, though the squeezing was a bit harder than my liking in this body.

Not showing my unease, I hoped, I forced myself to breathe the best I could, and timed it with the ticking of my designer watch, at the same time demanding my eyes to stop looking anywhere but into hers.

"Do you understand what I mean?" she looked straight at me, a sincerely concerned look on her face. She's been talking this whole time and all I've been doing is breathing. God. Damn. It.

"Yeah. Thank you." I smiled, speaking slightly better than squeaking, this time.

"So what's bothering you? What's on your mind, hun? You look lost."

I looked down awkwardly, trying to use body language to my advantage. "I don't really want to talk about it, thanks though." Damn it, why did I do that? Looking around in a small panic I said, "Honestly I'd really just like to talk with you about other things, if that's okay."

"Oh? Well how would you like to hear about my most recent breakup?" She gave a smile that read about as innocent as a demon of depravity.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Shit. SHit. SHIt. SHIT. 

"Let me tell you something, this lady was incredible. She was beautiful, rich, good at making love, and cared about me. But you know how sometimes people can get a little too into you?"

I stared blankly and just barely nodded.

"She was possessive, you know? She said that she just couldn't bear to see me with anyone else, whether it be an acquaintance or a friend. Total bullshit, if you ask me. Happens all the time, though" she sighed. "Everyone else I know has issues with guys or ladies cheating on them, and I'm over here with the stalkers." she laughed. It sounded like the Christians' version of the Devil in my ears.

I believed that I was keeping my calm well, until I realized my eyes were spread wide in amazement. My mouth was definitely also agape. "I suppose I can imagine what you mean... After all, people need their space, right?"

I frantically searched my mind for hundreds of ways I could distract myself and have time for myself while dating her, and exactly zero of them were appealing to me. Reading? I've read every book I own plus I already read two books per day from the library. Painting? Boring. Music? Already d --

"Damn straight... What was your name again, sweetie?"

We exchanged names and numbers, and that was the moment I made it my mission to let her have time for herself at all costs, for the fifth time. The first time didn't count, since I didn't truly know her until it was too late. But this time, the sixth relationship, I am making my fifth attempt at this 'space' thing count.

That evening after I went home, all I could do was sit and breathe while my mind gradually churned slower from the excitement that afternoon. I sipped my finest whiskey with my back slouched into the new marshmallow couch I had delivered a few days prior. Even though the television was on, I didn't see it. I didn't even truly hear it. My eyes looked but the rest of me was seeing micro expressions, blinks, shimmering hair, all belonging to her. Why did I have to choose a body with such bad anxiety? I agonized over how the conversation went, over and over through my chaotic brain.

Though, after a while, it turned into my past faces, my new face, my plans, my life... And
like the waves of an ocean, my mind caressed the edges of the coast of where my wonder sat. Why am I the way I am? And if the Gods made humanity, then who made ME? I jumped out of my seat as I saw Vincent's face stare back at me from the lit screen. And now I'm hallucinating again. Great. My whiskey now covering the nearby rug, I wandered to bed and laid in the darkness, truly feeling how alone I was for the first time for as long as I could remember. Those questions lurked ever closer than before, creeping about the corners and niches of my mind while I tried to focus on anything, everything else. Each and every one haunted me into my sleep.

Shapeshifter -Part III-

Between shopping and moving, all I could remember was falling: falling into a dark living room, with a bear skin rug and a dim fireplace. A red velvet couch sat next to me as the music of life quickly muted to eerie silence. I floated still, feet touching the floor with no feeling. The lack of voices in my head was both a relief and horrifying. I was alone... Actually alone. No one would find me here. All that surrounded this room was pitch. Where there should have been walls there was shadow. Even with the irregularities, I held a feeling of calm underneath the dread. My stomach sank with realization. Is this mine? I shuddered with a cold chill, and when I blinked a gold and black crown appeared upon the velvet couch, about the size for a king. About my size, I silently thought to myself. I could hold myself back no longer, and temptation pulled me to the crown. With a leap, I was in my blankets, my bed, the beaming sunlight from my window on my face and reality sinking in. I could scarcely breathe with my lungs burning for air.

The weird, foreboding dream haunted me every night without fail.

I woke up in my bedroom, standing near the edge of my bed,  watching the floor come closer and closer to my face faster than you could say the word ‘ouch’. My life flashed before my eyes, reminding me again of her aura and presence, but luckily, my arms reached the floor before the rest of me did. Sweat poured from my head down to my chin, then dripped onto the fluffy, purple rug I picked up yesterday.

“Uuuuuuuuuggggggggghh,” I vocalized to myself and the ceiling, rolling onto my back. At least the softness of the rug was a little comforting, cushioning my back from the wooden floor. My beating head went away once I thought of her, and her velvet soft skin, her silver streaked, black silky hair in the wind like it was straight out of a shampoo commercial. I wondered how she was, if she smelled the same, if she cut her hair, if she got that promotion…

I snapped out of my mind as my phone buzzed in my pocket. A reminder read "PART I START" lit up across the screen. A grin grew across my face with a demure and maniacal feel. Let us begin.

I read my list one last time, rehearsing everything in my head based on how it went the last 6 times. I slipped on skinny jeans and a striped shirt with a new bracelet. It will work this time, I know it will. I just have to have a little faith. I brushed eye shadow and blush, and drew the sharpest cat eyeliner possible. My name is Annabelle Chevalier. I went to college for Literature and that I have an avid interest in reading and writing. I am 35, and I take vitamins. Exercise and health is important to me. I grabbed my new favorite bag, a classic brown messenger bag made of faux leather and careful planning. I was adopted and have no idea of my biological parents, and my adoptive parents passed away at least 3 years ago. I smiled a couple of times in the mirror to make sure I looked perfect, and then checked the clock. I was right on time.

I marched over to the corner, sirens blaring in my head, ignoring a couple of idiots on the street. I peered into the window of the bookstore. The angelic, silver haired wonder of my interest was indeed sitting at one of the three cafe tables, sipping her favorite tea and reading the first book of the Dreamlands Journals series for the 28th time. I felt my hair to make sure it was still pristine and walked in, shoulders straight and head high. I couldn't feel my limbs, as they disintegrated into nothing from just one look at her. My head nearly beat out of my skull while I badly feigned perusing the aisles for the next fiction novel to read. The temptation to look at her was pulling me ever deeper into this hole I was digging for myself.

Her long black hair becoming lustrous and metallic, sparkling under the ceiling lights appeared to glow with an otherworldly sheen. My hands ached to feel it swim in between my fingers. I caught myself shortening in breath, and I closed my eyes to force my lungs to take in as much air as possible, slowly. My breath was slightly audible as I inhaled with all of my might.

Needles shot up my arm as my nails dug deep into my palm. My other hand just trembled, fingers outstretched. Breathing helped a little with both cases.

I opened my eyes in time to see her smiling at me. From her table, probably 20 feet away, she clearly could have seen me attempting to squash an anxiety attack from possessing my body. Why me? I looked up at the ceiling as if to look at the sky, at the heavens, at the gods in embarrassment. I felt the flush of blood go to my ears and cheeks, as I had each and every time I attempted to seduce her again. Why do I even try to be subtle?

"Are you okay?" she asked, giggling a bit at my social failure. Gliding up to me with the poise of a beauty queen, she spoke, "I don't mean to pry, but... Well, I am a psychologist, and it appeared you were having a bit of a rough time there. Would you like to talk about it?"

I felt disbelief, which of course I probably showed on my stupid face, and while I paused she waiting only a few moments before, "Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have offered. I'll go sit down again." She walked back to her table looking down at her feet, fidgeting with her fingers together.

The awkwardness consumed us both, while I stood there speechless in front of the Miscellaneous Fiction aisle, and she tried but failed to concentrate on her book.

"I-- you know what? Sure. I'd love to ta--" I coughed as my voice cracked from nearly asphyxiating myself with anxiety. My lungs were squeezing themselves shut faster than I could breathe in. I forced another deep breath, and she smiled. "Talk. I'd love to talk."

Shapeshifter -Part I-

She kissed me, telling me goodbye for the last time. My soul felt less worn this time; perhaps I could finally be free from this pain I kept injecting myself with. But I loved her, and this game that we played. I loved it because she had no idea... Or I loved it because of how much I loved her. Perhaps I just loved the chase? Or the world was just cruel enough to relieve me of being a masochist while also making me love to self-afflict. What I do know is this: I both loved and hated the stab of the knife of rejection under my skin, over and over again; It was that she left me again, but also gave me a chance for a new beginning. I knew this wouldn't be the last time. It couldn't be, because we were meant to be together.

I was put here to love her, this goddess among mortals, and I would stop fucking up long enough to grow old with her. Or at least, to watch her grow old, her hooded eyes growing matured crow's feet and her glistening hair streaking silver... Something about my interest in her both terrified and excited me. The idea of her aging, well... It made my heart beat out of my chest and my skin tingle up from my feet to my head. And she would love me for what I am... I hoped that one day, this mysterious force within me that made me different from others would be what put me ahead in the race to her heart.

I looked up at the sky and realized... In seven days she would be 40 years old. Forty, and still looking like she could kick my ass at the drop of a stone. Most people would never catch my eye for a moment past the age of 24, but her... Somehow the more she aged, the more alluring her scent; the more wise she became, the more I yearned to listen to her clear, dominating thoughts. In my ever-expanding life I have never once laid eyes upon a human of her caliber. I grinned wide with a tantalizing shiver up my spine as I thought of how spectacular she was.

And yet there we were, saying goodbye for the sixth time. I was standing all alone in my house, the empty air weighing heavily on my mind after she left, and with a start, my determination kicked in. My heart beating faster, I looked to my left at the entryway wall.

I stared at myself in the mirror, wiping unfamiliar tears from my chiseled cheekbones. My long, thick, strawberry blonde hair framed my pointed chin and smokey eyes flawlessly. A look of determination crossed my eyebrows and I resolved to never let this happen again, for the sixth time. I marched over to the bathroom wall, knocked on it once, then twice, then three times and slid the falsity to the side with conviction. The loud crack of the false wall splitting was registered but didn't startle me, as I was too busy hearing my raging thoughts echoing in my ears and heart. With a slap, I firmly hit my palm upon the wood, sliding along the blisters and leaving a trail of perfectly crafted wood underneath. And there it was in its handcrafted glory, my black, wooden, mysterious box. Picking it up carefully, I breathed in its heavenly aroma of old polish mixed with an unidentifiable odor. This was what hope smelled of, and I carried it to the kitchen table.

Taking a deep breath, I gently but firmly pressed in the symbols on each face in the correct order, making a click sound with each impress. The cover flew across the room and hit the wall with a bang and crashed to the floor. I flipped the box over and passports, licenses, birth certificates, credit cards, and social security cards clattered against the polished cherry. Six of each sat on the table, and I could practically hear the personalities murmuring in my head, a little too clearly. I shuffled through the documents and the voices became louder, and clearer. 

"How could you do this to her?" asked Vincent, who had been dead for 15 years. 

"You monster. What is wrong with you?!" yelled Brielle, who had been dead for 5. 

"I WILL KILL YOU." said a familiar but unidentified demonic growl, as my mind felt like it was stabbed through with an ice pick. 

They each hounded me, one by one, beginning to overlap each other until I couldn't understand what any of them were saying and they were so loud that I collapsed with my hands covering my ears. I had heard them all before, but that demonic growl hit me even harder than last time.

"YOU FIEND!!"

"MONSTER!!!"

"ABOMINATION!!!"

I crumpled like tissue paper as they tortured me, scraping at my eyes, my chest, my brain... I yelled at them to stop, let me be in peace, that it was all my fault and I was sorry... I could feel them tearing at my memories, biting and scratching at my emotions and the rational parts of my brain... I sobbed loudly as I felt dreams and nightmares once remembered, slipping away as if they were smoke escaping a leaking chamber. 

After what seemed like an eternity, I came into consciousness again around 3:00 A.M. I found myself on the plush carpet of my bedroom closet, in the pitch black, feeling as though I had drunk nothing but rum for a week straight. My mouth feeling like sand but tasting like bile, I apparently had vomited. I made the mistake of feeling my chest, which was covered in a green and brown substance liquid, and tried to stand. Holding on to the hanging rod, I clumsily pulled myself up and felt the sharp pain of dehydration mixed with a healthy dose of malnutrition within my body. However, it did not matter... It was all for her. It would all be worth it in the end.

I grabbed for myself some water from the fridge and sipped the cool, icy poison slowly. To my surprise once again, it did in fact make me feel a little better. I then stuffed a slice of whole wheat bread into my mouth and ate it with ferocity before staring at the table again. I had a couple of options available, but which one would give me the best chance?

Slowly picking up a white drivers' license from the table, I thoughtfully scratched my chin with my other hand.

"Annabelle Chevalier. Sounds like a good enough name to me. And it'll have to be. If it's not, only the Gods know that you're dead anyway." I snatched up the driver's license, the birth certificate, and the social security card. I even took the passport, just in case.