No frills, no elaboration (go back »)

This is an entry in which I will be totally real, with none of the usual chipper I manage to build up for this blog. Right now, I am extremely depressed. I really don't want to be alive at the moment, I truly don't. My life is in a way crashing around my feet, and death seems like a good place to go to. I mean, what's the point in holding on for nothing? And so, I'll demonstrate some of what I can do with the skills that do exist.

Time is stretched both before and behind us, moving in a type of whirl we can feel but won't quite stand on. His skin beside mine.

This was in the place between time, and we held eachother before we were born. It's funny, but I'm seeing the old and the young and the never there dead floating there with us. None of us know what we are. Me and Nsia just hope we've not yet been born. That way, we're not going towards the gods and hell. And if we've not been born, I might be born with him and we'll lie together in the real world too.

Sometimes, I imagine the real world. It's calm there and bright. Here we go through a sort of light blue funnel, sliding through the universe. No one even has collor in their eyes yet, we are all black before the lord lightens us. Black, spanning the past and the future. Our skin is still pure, from the elements, or from rape, or from the scorch of the sun. "come closer,"

Nsia has his mouth against my neck, kissing me there and making it breathe. He's soft. His lips are still tender, but his face has the crevices and hardness of skin new across the cheekbones. He's longer than I am, limbs stretching out underneath mine because he'll be, or was, a man some other day. I slide down to let my face meet his, meet his black eyes for a moment, and put my mouth to his. Our tongues slope one over the other while my arms make themslevs lazy around his neck while his move over me.  

That's how good I am, okay?

Peace and Love,

Imani