Записи Misterika
3
Rearviev mirror
In the summer of 2013, I found myself driving home alone on highway 902 from a party. It was almost midnight, and needless to say it was pitch black. As was usual at night, I was on edge. I had the radio off, and could hear nothing but the muffle roar of tires on pavement and the dull hum of the engine. I stole a glance into the middle rear view mirror, and saw nothing but darkness through the back window.
I know that I looked backward and saw nothing. I’m sure of it. Just the seemingly endless blackness of the night. I remember it so clearly because not 10 seconds later a car passed me to the left. Headlights on. I had one of those sudden adrenaline rushes like when you think you see a person outside your bedroom window when it’s just a tree, or when you start awake at night with the feeling of falling. Ten seconds earlier, nothing had been behind me. Suddenly, a car. I drove the rest of the way home shivering and knowing something was off.
The next morning, I found t ...
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I know that I looked backward and saw nothing. I’m sure of it. Just the seemingly endless blackness of the night. I remember it so clearly because not 10 seconds later a car passed me to the left. Headlights on. I had one of those sudden adrenaline rushes like when you think you see a person outside your bedroom window when it’s just a tree, or when you start awake at night with the feeling of falling. Ten seconds earlier, nothing had been behind me. Suddenly, a car. I drove the rest of the way home shivering and knowing something was off.
The next morning, I found t ...
Читать полностью...
twilight
there's someone here.
a thickening psychology, a flesh eating mind, cannibalistic understanding. is the destruction of flesh orgasmic?
i stand infront of the meat section in the supermarket. i want to rip the plastic wrap and kiss the flesh, rosy and florid. i can feel the heat in it, no matter how cold the freezer, no matter how decayed the body. i can smell the rot inside me. it is killing me, how strong it is, rancid, putrefaction in me. intimacy interlinked, no matter how clean, how scraped and ashen i become, the fetid flesh within me screams. torturing me to death. like puppies with muzzles soaked in sweet blush, they're rippling my tendons, ripping away white fat from red muscle. slamming me into the wall, licking me clean of autonomy.
how many times can i replicate myself, like a prion, rending the humanity that was once stripped from me.when i dissect myself, tearing out pieces of my body, bursting out the strips of flesh carved away, i c ...
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What Are You Coming Home To
THE KIND OF FEAR THAT MAKES YOU HIDE IN THE LIGHT
in my coat watching the snow fall into perfect cocaine lines from the telephone wires. do you feel yourself becoming powder on hot skin? the white hot pain washing over my eyes. sinking into my earmuffs. is your body hard like a car that won't start?
walking in the street, holding my chest, my cheeks and lip begins its wintry mourning. on the top of the hill, the sunset waning down into the earth, a figure black against the fervid candelabra. the world is suddenly empty, and i am suddenly full of something needing to be snuffed out.
you never even had to consider there were mean dogs out there, let alone killing them. i see everyone as a cold slab of meat, i trim off the fat, trip over their excess of red, feel the life that once was in the skin of some carcass, some deceiver in the early grey mornings, green and dull where the street lanterns spill overflowing with grief. i run my fingers down some dog's ...
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in my coat watching the snow fall into perfect cocaine lines from the telephone wires. do you feel yourself becoming powder on hot skin? the white hot pain washing over my eyes. sinking into my earmuffs. is your body hard like a car that won't start?
walking in the street, holding my chest, my cheeks and lip begins its wintry mourning. on the top of the hill, the sunset waning down into the earth, a figure black against the fervid candelabra. the world is suddenly empty, and i am suddenly full of something needing to be snuffed out.
you never even had to consider there were mean dogs out there, let alone killing them. i see everyone as a cold slab of meat, i trim off the fat, trip over their excess of red, feel the life that once was in the skin of some carcass, some deceiver in the early grey mornings, green and dull where the street lanterns spill overflowing with grief. i run my fingers down some dog's ...
Читать полностью...
