[ almost random, almost poetry ]


"the heart is a bloody thing"  

"some people say maria
is the most beautiful word in the world
that's what her mother would say
braining her hair before church.
and love was hate and the touch
of what she ever wanted poisoned.
her body was hanger, her blood laced with glass
shredding at every vein and ventricle as it ran through
in the years of haunted silence.
nobody knew.
nobody saw.
he walked with maria,
across the town that hates walking.
he spoke carefully,
she said nothing.
but her eyes flashed and her mood boiled
then passed, hints of storms that never broke.
but her eyes suggested  she wanted something to be there.
he said, 'you know, whoever hurt you
dies every time they look in the mirror
that is how they pay'.
she crossed her arms.
'and one day, maria, you will die too,
but there's no reason for you to die
every day'.
he said, 'tell me when you're ready to change'.
she watched the sun drown in
a cauldron of clouds.
for the first time, she took his hand
and, leaning over,
whispered in his ear,
'i´m ready now'.
become what is or you will be
what is not."


"some things don't pass, the injuries don't heal they merely find a place in our guts and in our bones where they fitfully rest, tossing and turning between our knuckles and ribs waiting to wake as the shadows grow long."

[barlow, toby]