Something inspired by a song.
Can you remove this cold darkness from my eyes? It's rather numbing.
A long pause. No response. I hear a tick-tick-ticking sound to my left--or was it my right? Maybe it was from behind. Tick-tick-tick. I turn, stumble, and fall face-first into the moist earth below. A bird calls from above, cackling at my vulnerability, and I cry. The dirt fills my mouth and for a long, contemplative moment I enjoy the earthy taste.
Oh, such a coldhearted vulture! I need you off my back, out of my vision, away from my heart. Leave me, and I won't regret.
Can we make it to the horizon before the earth takes my body underground? I attempt to answer myself, but my jaw slacks open and silence rolls off my tongue. Curses and swears, swears and gestures, gestures and curses. You've got my tongue, you vulture.
There's an empty space between my eyes and lips which sucks the future from every living creature of the present. A charming spell you've set on my face; such a clever trick you've pulled on my mind.
Don't dance atop my back, you son-of-bitch. You haven't earned that right.
Words by Kerra Dolarhyde
Read 1065 times
Written on 2007-10-12 at 23:15
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Vulture's Promise
She passes by my view, a liquid shadow beneath moon and star, and I'm temporarily blinded. Blotch, spot, stain. I realize my vision is still impaired.Can you remove this cold darkness from my eyes? It's rather numbing.
A long pause. No response. I hear a tick-tick-ticking sound to my left--or was it my right? Maybe it was from behind. Tick-tick-tick. I turn, stumble, and fall face-first into the moist earth below. A bird calls from above, cackling at my vulnerability, and I cry. The dirt fills my mouth and for a long, contemplative moment I enjoy the earthy taste.
Oh, such a coldhearted vulture! I need you off my back, out of my vision, away from my heart. Leave me, and I won't regret.
Can we make it to the horizon before the earth takes my body underground? I attempt to answer myself, but my jaw slacks open and silence rolls off my tongue. Curses and swears, swears and gestures, gestures and curses. You've got my tongue, you vulture.
There's an empty space between my eyes and lips which sucks the future from every living creature of the present. A charming spell you've set on my face; such a clever trick you've pulled on my mind.
Don't dance atop my back, you son-of-bitch. You haven't earned that right.
Words by Kerra Dolarhyde
Read 1065 times
Written on 2007-10-12 at 23:15
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
