Sunday, November 13, 2011

Black circles hang from under my eyes
They wrap their sticky fingers around my face
Blurring my vision.

My eyes and the edges of my lips,
Watch the space my feet take
And speak more to the world than I could ever imagine.

I do things I do not wish to do
Only because in my dreams I can handle it,
But I can never stop dreaming.

People only see me in one mirror image,
The other is mat and unreflective,
And unperceivable.

I sometimes forget it’s there,
And let myself get carried away with my dreams again,
Only to be disappointed,

When the mind hurricanes
Come again and disrupt my peace,
And demolish the foundations I have built.

Anxiety it is called,
In a world I used to believe in,
But in my real fairytale it reigns.

People lie,
I understand that now
Much more clearly.

They tell me nice things,
Wishful things,
But I have lost all sense of faith in humans.

My mind wonders
Days and nights on end

To the very word and twitch of a muscle,
To prove that theory,
But I wish it to be untrue.

To progress with people,
You must first understand said people,
But how can I, when they do not wish to understand me?

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Monster Birth

That sickening feeling deep in her stomach suddenly increased to an unbearable pain. She only just stopped herself from screaming as she crumbled to the ground. All that was audible was a weak moan that just escaped her bleeding lips. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, taking some of the pressure of the burn off her back. Whatever it was inside of her, she knew it wouldn’t be long before it was out. Her blackened fingernails had fallen off only ten minutes ago, but she didn’t connect it with the monster inside of her. A few days ago her fingers were jammed between a door by her vicious kidnapper and had turned a deathly black. But that wouldn’t be enough of an answer for why all her finger nails, including her thumb nails, had fallen off all at the same time. Three days of sleep deprivation had been finding its way through her brain, and she couldn’t

consider the simplest of things.
But the sudden jolt of pain had woken her up. Of course her nails were a result of the monster. It was killing her, decaying her body before she was even dead! Her skin was pale and blue tinged and the gash on her lip had stopped bleeding, but was still wide open and not even beginning to heal.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” She screamed to the glass wall that made up the fourth wall of her sterile prison. Behind it were three people, dressed perfectly in white lab coats and slicked back hair. They didn’t move, they didn’t talk, they didn’t even flinch as their experiment died in the most brutal way possible.

In 10 days only, she had been kidnapped off the streets of her city, drugged, tested and tortured. Deep inside her stomach was something; she didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that it was some horrible mutation and that she probably wasn’t going to live through its birth.

Up her throat a thick substance came, without warning, and shot from her mouth to the bleach white floor beneath her feet, dragging its claws all up her throat. The projected substance, a brown-black, mixed with the red of the woman’s blood, melted into the floor to a watery liquid, revealing a large egg-shaped object.

The woman sat on her knees, wobbling only slightly. The tear in her lip had reached her chin, to make room for the black egg. She looked at it was glazed over eyes, before tipping to the side and landing with a thud on the ground.
For a moment all was still. Life seemed to have ceased in the experimental room. The only movement was on the other side of the glass where the three emotionless people stood watching, their heart beating steadily, writing notes on the horror that was happening before them.

The egg shook vulgarly , breaking the moment of motionlessness, and suddenly split open. The hatchling that crawled out from under the bloody sludge was the first factor to ever cause a reaction within the experimentalists on the other side of the glass. The abomination caused a sick feeling in the guts, nothing like the feeling the woman had first experienced, but somewhere along the same lines. The monster’s disgusting face, squashed and disfigured, was still partially covered in the black goo, but some skin white was able to shine through.

“Is this like the one before? I thought we had overcome the disfigurement.” Spoke one of the experimenters.
The others nodded in disappointment at their failed experiment. Another held down a button on the computer board in front of them and spoke into a microphone.
“Experiment number 3587, test subject 783. Failed. Begin extermination of result subject.” He spoke.

The little monster blinked its new eyes at the bright, white world around it, and took in it’s first breaths, which unfortunate to it was a toxic gas pouring in from vents in the walls.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Does anyone actually read this blog anymore?
I know I haven't been posting a lot. But now I've just started year 12, so you know what that means. I'll be procrastinating so I will probably be posting more. Sorry if all that I do post are freaky stories and poems about the HSC. I'll try to be less cliche'.
Thanks to all my loyal followers who still use blogger <3

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Words are my Disease

I have to write words,
Many words.
Words I don't understand,
Words I don't want to understand.

"It'll be worth the drain,"
Words of the higher man.
"It'll al be worth the degration of your brain."
With his broad smile
And skinny words.

Numbers that mean words;
That mean life
Dictate my years before
Suffocating my future,
Just a two diget number -
If I'm lucky.

Stars are bright
And shinny ahead
Of me and waiting to be touched.
But my human body does not wish
To let me live that dream.

Knowledge only last as long
As the breath that passes through your lips,
But somehow, we've let it take control
And now the heart attacks are coming,
The sicknesses are digging into our skin.

"Let it come!"
They cry.
"Let it diminish our bodies and carry away,
All that we have worked for."
Because mental abuse
Has finally taken it's toll.

I am waiting for the day,
when it too, hits me,
crushes my body like I have crushed my mind
And takes me into the sweet ignorance
Of stupidity.