I dream of an infinite darkness
so impenetrable, it is like nothing
I have ever witnessed. I watch
as it sweeps across the surfaces
of my mind, leaving the corroded
charcoal of once good memories
in its wake, the black powder
billowing across all that has been
razed to the ground. I know now
without the need for confirmation
what this agony surely means;
the darkness inside me is winning.
The condition of my internal body
parts has contaminated every inch
of my foundations which can no
longer stand without the assistance
of another. But who alive would dare
commit to such a grievous endeavor?
My confidence was one such victim
of the nuclear haze that blurs the senses
of my fractured mind, belittled by
the pains of life, and where others
may see happiness, all I ever look
upon is a never ending damnation.
If only past lovers could see me
now, would they have ever really
loved me at all? Would they smile,
so graciously, knowing that they
jumped the flooding ocean liner
before it started sinking?
Nothingness has a hold over me,
much like a boa-constrictor, and if
the light does not shine through
before the dusk settles over
the horizon, I fear that when the
morning comes, I will awake no more.
It would be so much easier to end
the savage journey now, than live
with its continuation looming over
my shoulders, which falter as though
the weight of the universe is applied
to my body. I would exit the world
on the same day that I was entered
into it, for could it not be seen
as a mistake if I, a broken soul, am alive
in the first place?
If normality is not indeed my brethren,
do I not deserve to die? If not for me,
then for someone else, to submit a favor
upon the minds of others, because to
gaze upon such a wretched beast is surely
not good for one’s well-being. I would
strike my flesh with a razor, and strip away
my bruised exterior, to reveal unto
the world outside my own how red
the blood of a pained individual can be.
But what of the fingers of a famed heroine,
who gently caresses that which the razor
has not yet touched, and removes the jagged
metal from my fingertips before I can
ruin my body some more? Nobody would want
me if I were mutilated flesh, for many have
a problem with my suit of skin the way it is
already. My hope for invisibility is removed
in the instant that I am touched by gracefulness,
for in the end that is all I ever did want;
to be noticed by an affectionate hand.
Loneliness, will you abandon me this night
in replace for an infinitude of love
as unending as the time? Will you
give to me but a moment to have a life
with a beauty, who ought to have her
features draped across the stars for all
I proclaim that I be ready to remove
all that has halted my journey towards true
north, where the angel of my blessed dreams
waits upon a pedestal of scented roses for
my passion, which I will gladly give to her
in a chalice that has been emptied
of all the sorrow that it once contained.
A promise of love eternal and infinite
would be met with happiness at the gates
of true romance in novels written by those
who believe in endings which conclude
with the sound of wedding bells.
Instead, I sit before a pedestal which
encapsulates all of my mortal failings,
my tears salting all that I look upon
in these moments of undone despair.
Where once I thought I could find
happiness, I have discovered that I
am merely a fool, whose punishment
is that taint of disrepute which lingers
upon my skin.
I am no murderer, and I am not
responsible for the breaking of many
a young woman’s heart, but I do
solemnly swear in the courtroom of
love, that I, the writer of these here words
am guilty of asking a young maiden
to enjoy a dinner with me.
She waved her hand and could not
submit to the allure that I had thrown,
my chivalrous attempts at romance
being but a shallow pool in contrast
with the ocean of eternal magic she
wished to have bestowed upon her soul.
The answer ‘no’ would have been all that
surely did suffice, and I would have been glad
anyways, for her voice, like lavender, had
draped itself across my ears. But no, she did
not dare stop at words, for the moment
was to play itself out within the foundations
of her mind every night when she tried to
simply rest, the nightmarish imagery of
my love confusing the sanctity of her mind.
So, she shot me looks of venom, whenever
our paths did happen to cross, and I be
lucky that I am naturally immune to the
toxicity of her now rancid flavored eyes,
which were once so delicious, that no man
alive could have fought the urge to sacrifice
his very soul in exchange to look upon
I never meant the pain that now rampages
like an unrestrained fury through her mind,
but I on the other hand find utter strangeness
in what has here transpired. Could my
affections really be so horrifying? And if so,
what would need to be done to see to it
that I am eternally forgiven?
I wrote this in regards to a dilemma that I at present have. A few months ago I asked a young woman out, to no avail, for she was already in a relationship. I am uncertain of her status at the moment, but am almost certain that it may have changed. My question is; should I ask her out again? Any answer would be surely appreciated.
Thank you for reading ladies and gentleman!
This poem will never be perfect;
it will only ever be good enough,
about the time I discovered fair beauty,
who captivated me with her ravishing features
before being diminished in the fog of life
the moment she dismissed me.
I asked, not to experience a moment with her,
but to have an entrepreneurial romance
that would span the longevity of time,
for apart from her, initially, I had no intention of ever being.
I wanted to caress her many alluring features,
and taste the finest beauty imaginable
on the palms of my smooth fingers,
as though she were a beverage
any man alive would love to sample.
I treated her with kindness,
for she was deserving of only better treatment,
and my true desires I attempted to keep hidden
from her massive, searching eyes.
In but a moment she cut me down to size,
as though I were a piece of fabric,
and she, a majestic bladed instrument,
that had spent an eternity opening the chests of many men
and relieving them of their centrepieces.
I could have kissed her,
and I wanted to with all my heart,
for never before had my lips touched those belonging to such an amazing being,
but like an angel, she flew away
before the seed of possibility had even begun to grow.
I should have known an unfathomable Goddess of such unequivocal beauty
would have her heart belonging in the safe of another,
and no matter the hours spent attempting to crack
the unbeatable combination on the locking mechanism,
never would I open the muscle
which holds all of her love to bear
and hold it in my possession for but a single moment,
indoctrinating her emotion to become my own,
as I feel it ought to be.
I bowed my head and let her leave
the moment she had said the words that needed expressing to my ears,
for yet again the world smiled kindly on another man
that surely was not me.
To say I dislike the fact I lost the woman I had fallen for,
(like falling from the cloud cover to the world below,
only to find that which had once resided inside
the bounds of my mortal frame collapsed around me on the floor;
a puzzle beyond solvable intent)
is barely an accurate description remotely close to the factual truth.
But I be formal and polite,
and lucky to have a flicker of her generous attention
bestowed upon my features.
With this thought in mind,
a sigh of thanks filtered through my lips and drifted to her ear,
before depart we did,
in a moment that made moving quickly look almost slow in speed,
because I barely knew she were gone from me a second later,
until the punch of loneliness slammed into my chest,
and wrenched my heart out from inside of me
and onto a frozen platter of belittled lover’s hearts.
I saw her again, whilst heartless,
but far from me she was
and follow her forward unto her destination I could not,
and see her again, sadly, I never will.
Blacketh my bones with the foul
blood from my frozen withered
heart. Don’t look upon me, the
hideous one for you shall
feel nothing more than a cold
chill travelling over you,
along with the high shriek of
a baby’s cry from staring
too long into these abysmal
eyes. You will find no pleasure
here. I am the pariah;
the interloper; a zealot
of the worst order. I am
emotionless; barren; a
sociopathic beast worthy
of nothing else but a death
deserving of the most Hellish
of all beings. My body will
not be buried with the bones
of men, nor will it be buried
in a grave unmarked by words,
but in an underground pit
where no one will ever have
to suffer me again, for
I have already been
suffered enough and the people
can suffer me no more. At
least this is what has been said
before, the words carried on
the wind to my ear like ghostly
echoes from a supernatural
realm. This is the justification
for treating me with such disdain.
As long as I am viewed as
something less than human then
the people needn’t concern
themselves with guilt-ridden feelings
cuz there is nothing to be
sympathetic for. I have
been loathed intensely by most,
if not all, my entire
life; another fifty or
so years of pure unadulterated
disgust cannot be too difficult
to endure. If it does however
and these words are proven inaccurate,
stabbing my own flesh with a
pointed dagger will certainly
do the trick. I only hope
that nobody has a resurrection
spell, for if they do, alive
I shall be again once more,
for with me but gone, who will
these people come to hate? There
is no one else more disliked
in this world. I only wish
society would learn to
shield its expression, for the
hate is written all across
their faces in italics.
On top of this, my other
wish is just to be left alone.
Can I not die in peace, sad
and alone and afraid in
a blackened hole away from
the eyes of the people? Apparently
that is too much to ask.
SYNOPSIS: Explores the final few days in the life of police officer Marcus Lithammer, revealing how it was that he died and the culprit responsible for his murder.
Officer Marcus Lithammer was found dead this morning inside the house of a Mr. Dominic Chase. He died instantly from a bullet to the side of the head, the murder weapon; a magnum revolver located a couple of metres away from the body. Dominic Chase, who is believed to be dealing with psychological issues is the prime suspect in this murder investigation and is still unaccounted for. Dominic’s family has told police they will do everything they can to help bring their son in swiftly and safely. Officer Lithammer, a decorated veteran of the Melbourne police force leaves behind a fiancé.
Fifteen nights earlier:
The sound of the loud bar echoed around me as I shuffled in my chair, staring into the face of the soon to be Mrs. Marcus Lithammer. She had brown shoulder length hair and a spectacular smile. Her teeth were a bright white that was almost artificial in appearance whilst her lips were covered in a bright red lubricant that made them glitter under the lighting from the ceiling above. She wore a fabulous black dress with what looked to be small sapphires located across every inch of its design, the garment placed tightly across her body, revealing all of her curves. She smiled back at me as we shared a toast, downing the drinks in one gulp. I smacked my lips, feeling my revolver pressing up against my lower thigh as I moved it over to the adjacent side. ‘What do you say we call it a night?’ I asked, alternate devious intentions in mind.
‘But it’s not even eleven p.m.’ retorted Abigail. Before she could say anymore her beeper went off, her face becoming contorted in frustration as I sat back in my chair, holding my head in my hands.
‘And it’s a mystery as to who that could be’ I said sarcastically as Abigail gave me a dirty look.
‘He’s my brother’ she retorted, reaching around inside of her black leather hand bag for the device that was irritatingly ruining a perfectly orchestrated evening.
‘Yeah, your brother’ I grunted, ‘who appears to spend more time with you than I have in the past six months. I want to spend time with my fiancé for at least one night without his interference. Is that too much to ask for?’
‘You know about his condition’ shot back Abigail.
I nodded, rolling my eyes into the back of my head. ‘I know, I know, fear of the dark, fear of tight spaces, fear of being touched. I ask you, how many things can a guy be afraid of?’
‘I told him, if he needed my help to call me’ retorted Abigail. ‘So if you intend to vent your aggression on somebody, let it be me. He’s innocent’ she said, storming out of the bar as I quickly paid the tab before hurrying after her. ‘Shit’ I thought, ‘if everyone was so damn innocent I’d be out of a job and living out on my arse.’
It was a short drive to her brother’s house, the streets dark and gloomy, the moon being extraordinarily bright at its pinnacle in the sky as I stopped the vehicle adjacent to the intended residence. The double storey home looked pale and gloomy in the darkness as Abigail looked at me, before exiting the vehicle, her breath visible in the darkness as I did the same.
The door to the residency flung open before Abigail had even rung the bell, her brother looking at her with glee filled eyes.
‘Hello Dominic’ smiled Abigail.
‘I’m glad you came’ said her brother. ‘I was having trouble sleeping. Whenever I closed my eyes this nightmare continued to play in my mind. Might you be able to stay with me tonight, at least until I manage to get to sleep?’ he asked as Abigail nodded, leading the way into the home. I managed a nod as Dominic looked at me, being unable to properly master a verbal greeting as the door closed behind me.
The interior of the home was shrouded with wood; wooden floors, wooden walls, even the furniture sharing the exact same pattern. Abigail led the way up the stairs, before turning right upon reaching the landing and escorting Dominic into his room, Star Wars posters littering the walls as I stood at the doorway as both brother and sister made their way into bed. I watched and waited patiently as Dominic began to count his usual numerical sequence in his mind to help him get to sleep, Abigail looking up at me with apologetic eyes as she mouthed the word ‘sorry.’ I instantly realised that she was not coming home with me tonight and it was with an angry heart that I briskly made my way down the stairs, slamming the front door behind me, hoping I kept that bastard of a brother awake for just a short while longer.
After driving around the town for a short while I eventually made my way back to the police station, logging into the target range and shuffling over to the farthest lane. Setting myself up in front of the target, I removed my magnum revolver from my belt and loaded all six chambers, pointing the loaded weapon at the intended target and squeezing, watching it go away. ‘If only everything were so easy’ I thought with a mischievous grin, ‘if only everything were so easy.’
Eight nights earlier:
I had parked my vehicle outside Dominic’s residence, waiting for his return home to speak with him. I took a deep breath as I turned on the radio, listening to some agonisingly brutal rap song which made my blood boil as I shut the radio off once more. Staring through the rear view mirror I suddenly noticed Dominic hobbling up the street, holding a cluster of books close to his chest, his eyes darting back and forth as though he were expecting somebody to attack him. Paranoid bastard, I’ll give him something to be worried about.
I exited the vehicle and hurried across the road over to him. ‘We need to talk Mr. Chase’ I began, being a little out of breath as I continued. ‘It’s about your sister. Well, actually it’s about your sister and I.’ I looked at him, his face looking puzzled, as if he were attempting to play coy, pretending he didn’t know who I was. ‘You do know who I am right?’ I continued, my voice tightening with anger. ‘We’ve met countless times in the past. You must have recognised me at some point in your ridiculously useless life! Anyway, I’m just here to say that I want you to lay off your sister. Why don’t you call your parents next time you have trouble sleeping? Now, I know about your little problems and I feel for you man, I really do, and many people in my position wouldn’t. But I would like to at least spend a little time romantically involved with your sister. Can you allow me that?’
The bastard didn’t even respond, appearing to completely ignore me as he walked past me and towards his front door. ‘You can’t have her you know!’ I cried as he slammed the door behind him.
One night earlier:
I lay in my relaxing bed, the wooden slats beneath me groaning as Abigail made her way over to me, unbuttoning her purple blouse and dropping it to the floor. Her amazingly luscious body that I had not seen much of recently looked as delicious as ever as I licked my lips, eager to taste her succulent flesh. I found myself salivating at her image, her dark hair rolling across her shoulders, her darker eyes looking directly into mine. Her brassiere matched the colour of her panties, both being a filthy black in colour as she made her way into bed beside me. I reached my arm around her and caressed her skin, kissing her moist lips as she groaned.
‘We haven’t done this in a long time’ she purred, beginning to unbutton my police uniform, falling on top of me and giggling as I embraced her in a warm hug. The two of us locked lips as her tongue ventured into my mouth, exploring the environment as I closed my eyes. Her hands reached for my zipper as I began to feel myself getting an erection – the phone spontaneously ringing and breaking through my greatest fantasies.
‘No, no, no!’ I shouted, infuriated at what had just happened as Abigail made her way off from my person and reached for the phone. Speaking for only a few short seconds, I instantly knew what was happening as I fell back into bed, holding my head in my hands as she put the phone back down. ‘I’m sorry Marcus’ she said. ‘But I really need to go.’
‘You don’t have to’ I said, becoming aggravated. ‘You need him like a hole in the head. I’m your fiancé! Could we at least spend some quality time together before we seal the bond? I was accosted by an attempted murderer today but you don’t hear me crying out for help, do you? I come home and I want to spend some time with the woman I am so in love with, not watch her leave to spend time with her brother. Do you not want to feel my erected penis inside you? Do you not want me caressing your succulent breasts? Do you not want me sucking your delectable clitoris? Jesus Christ, if I didn’t know any better I’d say the two of you were engaging in an incestuous relationship!’
‘That’s enough Marcus!’ shouted Abigail, putting her clothes back on. ‘I don’t need this crap from you right now’ she cried, tears in her eyes. ‘So just cut the bull and leave me be. I’ll be back as soon as I can’ she said, leaving the room as I fell back into the bed.
‘I can drive you!’ I shouted, hearing her cry ‘I’ll take a cab!’ the front door slamming behind her. I watched her from my window as she hurried down the street, cell phone to her ear. I buttoned up my shirt, grunting whilst I did so before eagerly hurrying down the stairs two at a time with the intention of following her.
I had parked in my usual position, opposite Dominic’s residence. I had watched Abigail arrive by cab, had seen the lights in her brother’s bedroom go on as she knelt down beside him, their shadows moving across the walls. I had waited patiently for over two hours, wondering what was taking them so long as Abigail finally emerged from the house, a taxi pulling up immediately as soon as she reached the curb, beginning to drive her back down the street. I rubbed my hands together as I took a deep breath, exiting my vehicle and walking towards the house. I picked the lock with a thin thread of wire, hearing the tumblers click into place, the door opening in front of me as I walked out onto the landing with the intention of speaking to her brother. I closed the door as quietly as I could behind me before slowly making my way across the wooden floor. Jesus Christ! Who in their right mind had their house comprised entirely of wood?
‘I’m sure I’d get his attention now’ I thought as I began to make my way up the stairs as slowly as possible, before hearing a sound coming from the kitchen. I crept back down the stairs and across the wooden floor, noticing a shape in the darkness that appeared to be constructing a sandwich as I sprang up behind him. Grabbing him around the neck, he instantaneously began to scream and squirm in protest, thrashing his arms around insanely as I dragged him into the lounge room and threw him into one of his wooden chairs.
‘Remember me?’ I growled through clenched teeth, ‘cuz I remember you.’ I took out my revolver and held it at my side, Dominic’s eyes growing wide with fear. ‘You ignored me before, but I doubt you can do that now. You think you know what fear is? Well let me educate you on something – you haven’t even scratched the surface. You know nothing about fear! Now, let me show you what fear really is’ I growled, holding the revolver in front of me. ‘Let’s see who the fates decide is the one most deserving of the love and affection of your beautiful sister, shall we?’
I removed every round but one from the chamber of my side arm, placing the others inside my pocket as I pointed the gun at his left temple and pulled the trigger. Dominic leapt in fear, astonished that nothing had happened. I drew the weapon to my head and smiled, pulling the trigger as I heard the weapon click, the chamber being empty. I pointed the gun back at Dominic, feeling extraordinarily powerful as beads of sweat ran across his face while he appeared to try to mouth sentences, the sounds being incoherent drivel. Pulling the trigger, the gun once again clicked, failing to fire as I turned the gun back on myself. I smiled at Dominic, holding the weapon steadily in my hand, before squeezing the trigger.