Steam

Steam

Art created in heat,

Snakes curl and hover,

They twist and consume,

Suffocating from within.

 

Far off through tendrils,

A fire smoulders,

Bubbles and hisses,

Blooming in the din

 

They take hold of the body,

Clinging to skin like lovers

They wrap and squeeze,

Until blood is dripping from their chin

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Book Blogger Tip Thursday #11

Don’t just write where you are comfortable. I get sleepy in bed, (almost like that’s what it is there for or something…) and so I prefer to write at a desk. Writing where writing happens for you.

Cosy Bed

Morality

Tiger Roar

If a tiger kills a gazelle,
No cries of evil ring out.
A tiger is free from moral.
People agree this without doubt.

And yet our own is bound,
To abide by the laws of old
Why should not I yearn for the taste of blood,
Or the want to feel skin turn cold?

Oh, scream as you wish,
Cry evil if you must,
But I am an animal,
I only wish to feed my lust

Truth is What We Make it

Court

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

“I swear.”

I mean what would happen if I didn’t. Come on, seriously, who doesn’t swear, whether they are telling the truth or not.

“Where were you on the night in question?”

“I was at home…alone.”

I was standing over a dead man’s body in the middle of some dimly lit street.

“And can anyone testify to that?”

“Only God as my witness.”

He gave up on me a long time ago.

“Did you know the victim?”

“No, never met him.”

Well at least that is true.

“And so, you do not know of any reason why you would attack this man?”

“No sir.”

Simple, I wanted to know what it would feel like.

Family Curse

Plague

Jack died first. He was three and the youngest of the four siblings. Of course, they’d mourned, no one, not even the doctors knew what had happened. It was horrible, of course and so painful.

Then Sam had died. He was the oldest, twenty and a rugby player. How could he have fallen so ill, his skin turning blue within hours, sweat steaming from his forehead?

It’s a terrible thing, to feel so helpless as a parent, to lose two children. But they still cooked dinner with them, helped their two remaining children with their homework and kissed them goodnight. But in the night while staring into the darkness they knew, deep down, their suffering wasn’t over.

When Tom caught a fever, they knew what was to come. They held their breath because the doctors had said again and again, it was just a coincidence. He couldn’t die. They’d taken him to the hospital, the best doctors with round the clock care if anything went wrong

They buried their third son the following week.

Ben seemed to know what was coming, he was the last one left and even if he was only eight he cried and sobbed all day and night. Three torturous days past. But Ben was wrong.

His father died first. They had both been stressed and traumatised with the ordeal, he had been allowed to feel under the weather. So, his wife had woken, hugging a cold and stiff body.

When Ben finally fell ill, they didn’t call the doctors, instead his mother had curled around him in her bed and the two stayed together, defeated by this curse until Ben went limp in her arms. She realised she no longer had tears to cry for her last child, putting him in the bed as she grew numb. The end would come for her soon as well. She took comfort in that.

But after a week she realised, her own curse was to live.