LazyMinx

Close the windows, close the door and Shut the world out once more. The air is too cold, like fingers of ice against my skin And it makes me shudder, but not not just from the cold. There is something else in that rasping whisper of the wind, an echo of a memory; I think I’d tried to forget and thought I had, but The cold and the wind and the dead eye of the moon staring at me harshly with not a hint of recognition let the chill seep back into me until my bones grew stiff and I swear there was sand pushed through my veins because blood doesn’t hiss like this....

There was no one beneath me where I thought they might be to break my fall. It all happened so quickly, I slipped; I tripped and went headlong without a thought into this and before I could draw breath I was free formation falling into What? Where was I falling and for how long, so far so good but everyone knows it’s the landing that counts. There were no hands waiting outstretched for me, no smile in familiar eyes, no face to recognise that felt like home,   so what could I do but allow by muscles to stop being so tense, resistance was not going to slow the crash to the ground was it? But I’m as dishonest as

Am I really just this spitting venomous creature with blazing eyes you see before you? Is that what I’ve become? I need you to hold me, touch me and Bring some warmth back into my skin yet when you reach out  I snap closed. You play with my hair the way you play With my thoughts, Leave me all turned about,  and yet I want you Still, because the times I’ve stood clinical and exposed before another, cold like a corpse reanimated is not something I could bare again. It’s not so fickle as chemistry or love or need that binds me so tightly to you. It far more far more important. Its recognition, realisatio

If I told you there is no heaven and no hell Could you look at me with those eyes and keep your gaze from Dropping to my feet with shame At my words? If I were to stare at the same wonders of all things bright and beautiful and see only atoms and molecules waiting to turn to dust, Could you still sing so sweetly to me each night? I don’t see your heart opening with the infinite love you preach And I don’t know if your ears could open to the words of the damned like me. I cannot kneel at the altar and take those sacraments without tasting how bitter that wine is, or how bland that bread, and it sticks in my throat as I sw

He says have a little faith a little trust you must   believe in me, my dear. I can make or take this fear all away. So why; she wonders; are there such pits of rage behind his eyes. He can only despise her for every weakness when she lets him in each time. Love is just a weapon some use it so well it catches your breath. He ties her hands with compassion and bludgeons her with her own sympathy.

Who wishes to hear the truth, with such convenient lies. The numbers win the troops; not this  lone figure, not  I. As history turns its face away in on itself and swallows itself whole. I can not be the only one to see what is happening here.   And yet if others can they choose not to act, not to move or lift a hand. How hell visits so readily when those close possess no warmth. Are but walking corpses, and this moonlight blinds me. He tried to warn me, I think, But it was too far gone. He tried to tell me, I swear, but  I was too far gone. Every word, gesture and image manipulated to suite  one end and th

   Cara wasn’t afraid of spiders, snakes, or mice. She wasn’t afraid of getting beat up because she knew that any boy who tried would come away with more than a few bruises to his pride. What Cara was afraid of was love. She was terrified of someone getting close enough to her to break her carefully guarded heart. She was scared of someone knowing her secrets, knowing who she really was beneath her skin. No, Cara wasn’t afraid of zombies or vampires or mummies. But love? Now that was scary.   Which is why Sam was such a big problem. Sam had sweet, earnest brown eyes, messy hair, and was almost awkwardly tall. He towered over