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  • The Enhanced

    This was my first ever story I ever penned. I wanted to share how I wrote around the time I started my emo phase. We start at the beginning so we know where we come from. Don’t be too harsh in your criticisms. 🙏🏻 Enjoy!

    Generations ago the shield went up, separating our world in two, humans on one side and superhumans on the other. Our governments came to the conclusions to reside on either side of our planet, as jealousy began to play a major part from schools, winning all of the scholarships, to the workplace; the completion of tasks seconds after being told what to do was too much for us to catch-up with. We humans were the lowest of the species in our world. So for over two hundred and twenty-seven years we have lived separately. Until now.

    The shield stands with a light whooshing sound of a purring engine which ripples from the ground to the sky. The mechanics of the wall generators are all buried meters under the ground.

    “Don’t you just wonder about what they are like now? How do we know there is anyone even on the other side of the wall?” I roar with a dreaming tone as I look up into the uncharted sky beyond the red shield on the super-side.

    “Matty, we have all seen the human movies that portray all their powers, of course we have to use wires and special-effects but we get the idea of what they are. You always do this, dude. They are still over there; don’t worry about that, focus on your life on this side of the shield. My opinion from what I have read and seen, they’re all ass-clowns.” Dev takes another swig of pinched beer as he loafs on a raggedy sun-lounger; his cap drooped over his face. “C’mon Matt, let’s roll-out, I’m getting bored.”

    “Go on without me, Dev.” I babble from my innards.

    He looks over at me with his wavy-eyes, no hope there.

    “Your rents’ still giving you jip?” He wipes the beer sweat from around his mouth. The sun is banishing quickly for another day. From his peepers to his feet my eyes are dragged down. “You know, you shouldn’t let them push you around, it’s not their life. You’re the smartest guy I know, make your own future. Forget what they say.”

    I turn back to the shield and place my right hand on the red wall. My family’s demons rest within my eyes when I begin to talk about them.

    “I guess we’re a lot more broken on this side of the shield. I’ll see you tomorrow, dude. “

    He stands for a brief minute; eventually he throws his beer into the shield, smashing it. “You’ll figure it out, Matt. You always do.” He stumbles and strolls away over the loose clumps of rocks.

    I’ll imagine a little more until I am surrounded by darkness, at this point I will go home and live within my nightmare. The wind picks up slightly, covering me in a chilly sand cloud.

    I prop both my hands on the wall and look down at my feet, spitting at the sand, crestfallen.

    “All my dreams will come true one day, pick-up your pride, Matty.” I close my eyes and try to wish for it.

    I fall forward and land side-first on the dirt.

    “Okay, that hurt.” I turn onto my back, brushing off the dust soil from my clothes. “I’m on the super-side.” I rise to my feet swiftly and race to the wall, trying my hardest to push back through. “Dev! Dev, I’m on the other side of the wall, I need help. Dev!” No use, he has beaten it. Out of breath I sit on a massive boulder and stare at my campsite, where I have sat with Dev since we were kids.

    “A glitch, they’ve only ever been seen; no person from either side has ever fallen through one. Yeah, I am one of the unlucky ones, now not only on my side of the world.”

    There’s only one thing from it, wait for Dev to come back, get our government involved and probably start an out-international incident. First time for everything. Or I could find a kind Super who can fly me back home.

    The trek is on for life. I walk unknowingly on uncharted ground; even though I am desert-bound the night air still brings on cold-goosebumps to my upper-arms. I check my watch at 02:13 am. I think it’s time to rest up shop, I prop my back up against a dead almost-fossilized tree, with a pulsating pain, I believe I have broken a rib when I fell earlier. Shiver yourself to sleep, Matt, it will all make sense when the sun comes up.

    I shoot myself awake to the sound of a snap-pop of thunder and the screech of wind, but no breeze rubs arms with me.

    “What the hell was that?” I bark to the cacti and dung-beetles that scurry across the floor. Readjusting my spine from a terrible and short night’s sleep I gain bearings, it wasn’t a dream, I’m still here.

    I stand, looking around for signs of enhanced living, nothing. I do hear poppy-music far-familiar to the ones I hear on the human radio. I sceptically jog up a hillock and try to hide behind a few masses of rocks.

    A small town, no roads leading neither in nor out; nonetheless a community has flourished in the dry eyes of the deserts mirage. On one of the streets an undersized blonde girl, standing at the end of a road looking out onto a plot of land. From out of nowhere the skeleton of a huge apartment building is materialized, from thin-air the exterior of the building is wrapped in brick. Lastly, windows, doors and gutters are imagined into reality, right before my very eyes, a building is made; the young girl skips off down the street.

    “What are you doing skulking up here?” An observed female’s voice puts out.

    I slip in scare; falling backwards onto my bed of sand. From blurry to focused, she must be an angel if angels were real. Wavy black hair; she is Goth mirrored but her eyes were as peaceful as the rebellion statement she wears.

    “I was looking at the young girl make that building from nothing, like with her thoughts.” I sang with a grog-voice.

    “Her name is Cassie; she lives next door to me. And her job is making things with her thoughts. It’s a better job that I have; she just made ten-thou-notes. Here, give me your hand.” I pull myself up to her level. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”

    “Well no, I kind of fell through a glitch in the shield and couldn’t get back through.” In shock the strange girl takes a step backwards.

    “You’re human. No – No this is bad, this is really bad. Oh my God, they will kill you if they find out a human has crossed over. You’re such a div! I can’t protect you from them, I can only fly.”

    I interrupt her meltdown. “You can fly?” She looks at me with lightning then her seas calm.

    “Yeah, I’m a delivery girl. It’s the only thing fliers are good for; taking things from A to B, that’s if you’re not a teleporter. Low money but second hand things needed to be shifted too.”

    “That’s so awesome. I just have a question.” She nods. “What’s a div?” She laughs from her nose.

    “A div is a stupid person; I wasn’t calling you stupid, I’m sorry. The whole situation is messed-up. You need to listen; there is a special part of our government here called the N.S.A.A.H. The National Security Association against Humans. This branch wants to eradicate all humans from this world so we can live as a whole, not as equals, they look at you as a threat.” I see the look of fear in her eyes.

    “Damn, well can’t you do your super-girl thing and fly me over the shield?”

    She sits on a rock looking for her next move in the sand.

    “It won’t do any good if I take you up there, it ends on the outskirts of space, that’s the reason why none of us have ever stepped foot on your side. There might be one way.” A light bulb is switched on.

    “Name it! I haven’t even been here one day and my life is at stake and I am bringing more people or supers into my trouble. It’s fine you don’t have to help me, I’ll find a way by myself.” I look out into the horizon.

    “Hey, if I were to leave you and something happened to you then I would be a sucky hero, wouldn’t I? There may be one way but it’s going to be hard and we will have to walk through government territories, which if they find you with me, my ass is worm food also. So we’re going to need help, come with me.”

    She grabs hold of my hand and runs me down the side of the sand hill onto the street.

    “This is where I live, Superville, excuse the name. Act natural, do not act like a human I mean because all it takes is for one nosey neighbour or mind-reader to get in your head and figure out what you are, game over. I have a couple of friends that will be able to help with our little problem.”

    She leads on entering into a garden, walking up to what looks to be a 50’s ranch house. She rings the bell. “What’s the password?” A voice from the other side commands.

    “Open the door Butt-hole!” She grins into the peeper of the door. “Close enough, Blondie” The door swings open to a nerdy teen, around my age of seventeen, dressed in a mix of a doctor’s scrubs and casual clothing; a box of popcorn gripped tight. “C’mon in. Butch and I are about to watch When Humans Attack four. Who’s your friend?” He states throwing popcorn into his mouth.

    “This is….” She didn’t even ask my name, I jumped forward with an open hand. “I’m Matty, nice to meet you, man.”

    With a full mouth of popcorn. “Hi Matty. I’m Jensen but everyone calls me Brains. Alicia has never mentioned you before.” She stands in front of me.

    “We need to talk Brains.” She hastily urges.

    In Brains bedroom lays taken apart computers that have been reassembled to make a Frankenstein-computer. Mechanical objects have been given life, he must really have brains. Jensen sits in front of me, mouth resting in awe. In the corner sits a quiet girl, very introverted within herself wearing what can only be noticed as librarian clothes. She is the one they keep calling Butch.

    “A human here, sitting right in front of me. I thought I would never see the day. Licia’ if the N.S.A.A.H finds out you know he’s a goner, right?”

    Alicia sits down beside Jensen, placing a hand on his back.

    “That’s why I have come to you. You are a marvel genius; you are the smartest guy I know. We need your help to make sure he gets back home or they will cut him up in a lab. And I can only do it if I have my friend on my side with me. Take a risk with me.” She pleads.

    He exhales the worry from his racing heartbeat within a blow, slicks back his head and nods in agreement. “What’s the plan?” He gives in.

    “Sweet! Well, there is no actual way we can turn off the power to the shield but if we talk to Lady Helen and get us on our side, she may take Matty home without anyone even knowing.”

    “I’m sorry; I’m feeling a little more human today than usual. Can someone tell me what is happening and why they call the girl sitting next to me, Butch?” I interject in a stern tone.

    Jensen stands, his eyes are moving like he is reading something, perhaps he is writing scenarios within his mind.

    “They call her Butch because she is impervious to everything, she won’t even die, bullets, radiation nor even a common-super-cold could stop her but she is as quiet as a mouse. And Helen is the President of the Super-world’s daughter; she is the only living teleporter to have lived in over forty years. Now if we go there and manage to talk some sense into her, she may actually be able to take you home without tripping over bad grounds.” Alicia bites her bottom-lip.

    “I’ve got it!” Jensen stammers with an eerie shriek. He stomps off through our huddle into his closet. “I made something when I was thirteen that might be able to help you, Matt.” Clothes, porn-magazines and old half dismantled machines are thrown out. “Tah-dah! I would like to introduce to you the static-human-flier. Which when turned on will harness the magnetic energy from our own world and resist our curse to it, which in theory should make you fly; no it will make you fly, Matt. Try it on, dude.”

    I exit the bathroom; all the suit contains is some boots and gloves that have some circular holes within the base of each of them, wires from all four limbs lead under my clothing to a belt that has an on and off button and a volume knob.

    “C’mon let’s go see if it still works.” Jensen inquires.

    I stand in the middle of Jensen’s back garden and the trio of heroes stand at his back door.

    With one of his hands palms he holds around his mouth, Jensen asserts. “Okay, turn the belt on and turn up the volume knob to the halfway line.” I do that – Nothing.

    I shrug my shoulders and begin to walk back. “I don’t think it’s working, something must be wro…..” I shoot off like a rocket missing the home’s chimney by centimetres. I climb higher and higher into the clouds, uncontrollably and dip and weave through clouds. I try to slow the speed by the volume knob but reaching for it I accidently flick the off switch.

    I plummet downwards like a rock, repeatedly turning on and off the switch in a frantic rage. “C’mon, turn on! Help!”

    “I’m coming!” I hear Alicia’s voice come from the cloud I just fell through. She shoots out with an opened hand. She grabs my shirt and pulls me into her; she wraps her legs around me.

    “I can’t hold your weight; brace yourself for a crash landing.” We crash down in the sand area close to where we met.

    “That was close. Thanks Alicia, you saved my life.” She stands up and brushes herself off.

    “I’m a superhero, it’s kind’o my thing. C’mon, let’s go get you home.” Putting her hands on her hip and jilting her chin outwards.

    Brains and Butch are cheering at the start of the street. “That was awesome! Do it again.”

  • When I Was Five

    When I was a kid, I lived in Renfrew, on the outskirts of Glasgow, Scotland. People who commuted through our little town would always bad mouth our streets; crime and poverty had a place here, it’s my home and I always took that shit to heart. My two older siblings and my younger sister lived in a cramped apartment with our single mum, next to a shipyard which soldered massive metal plates together, the metal sheeting came from exotic countries and that would be the closest I would ever get to warm sunlight, the clouds are a community here. 

    In our teased summers we were told to beware the tall grass as when the shipyard would get their metal delivery, small little critters and reptiles would sometimes be stowing away, so we would look out for scorpions, small snakes and unique insects. Yep, freezing cold Scotland had a foreign wildlife before the elements would test their abilities to adapt and survive. I remember one time, it was our Friday Family Film Night, Dirty Dancing was on after the TV show Casualty, lights out and junk food prepared and out of nowhere mum let out a primitive roar and started to scream.

    “Everybody out! Move your arses up, move now. Don’t ask, just get out, we’re going to your Uncles.” In her thick Glaswegian accent.  

    Turns out mum had caught a massive tarantula silhouette from the corner of her eye, past the darkness, sitting in the ceiling corner. My uncles did what any uncles would do, they wanted to catch it and see it up close. So they did that, caught it and took it to some museum, they were told that it was a pink-toed spider or something which could lay up to two-hundred eggs… I have already seen that movie by this point in my life and no, just no.

    I remember being fearless at this age, I would always climb higher than the other kids; I would always run faster or come up with the best plans to get matches to burn stuff or steal from the local Safeway. I was so dumb at this age, if someone were to bully me I don’t think I would realise what they were trying to do to me. A perfect example of this would be when I was kneeling in front of the TV, my favourite spot on the floor; we just got cable so I would be remissive if I didn’t. My mum was ironing four kids and her own clothes, drifting in and out of her daydreams.

    The crisp Scottish air peered in through the opened living room window where I heard a cold commotion coming from the cul-de-sac street; my mum leaned out the window and saw my big brother getting beaten up by two of the area’s bullies.

    “Split it up, you fucking animals.” Mum was a simple poet. 

    “I’ll go save him, Ma’” I say in an innocent squeak. She gives me a courageous look and proud arched eyebrow.

    I slipped on my Velcro trainers, threw on my jacket and ran like a focused soldier in battle, no war cry needed, only my instinct. I jumped down the apartment front steps and charged with my fist balled. I jump and land in the scruff and through all my fury in every direction, I hit someone’s eye, then knuckled a nose. No one touches my big brother.  The two big kids get up and scarper home.

    As a warrior I am dragged out fist are red raw, it was my mum, she was laughing so hard. These giggles are throwing me off.

    “Did I do something wrong?” I look for the joke or the accusation. 

    She puts both her hands on my shoulder and smiles, then with her index finger she boops me on the nose.

    “No, no, sweetheart. You came out here to protect your big brother and technically you did do that, but when you were throwing punches, you connected with your big bros face, you’ve bust his lip. It was an accident; your intentions were really brave. I’m proud of you.”  

    From this moment I was in, I wanted to fight for anyone who couldn’t fight for themselves. This was short lived as the biggest fight any child has ever dealt with was on its way.

  • A Monster In Your Words – Poem

    I’m a volcano ticking time-bomb,

    A tsunami riptide so hang on,

    I can solidify your soul with my eyes,

    I have blind hope,

    I can topple the very skies,

    Seeing you through this storms evil eye,


    A spells cast for evil dead,

    A lethal weapon aimed at your head,

    A lethal injection prescribed as my meds,

    You know true evil has no sex,

    Through your keyholes you are next,

    In deep holes my secrets sleep in kilos,

    Heartless without a cage.

    Suicide, suicide,

    On my mind, all the time,

    Every time I close my eyes,

    All I think is,

    Suicide, suicide.

    Reread again, repeat.

    All Hell is breaking loose,

    Talking to myself,

    You’re in my shoes,

    I show and tell,

    My horror corridor cells,

    Again I have broken myself,

    Now you know I am telling the truth.

    Tiger, tiger, burning bright,

    Symmetry of fire within my sight,

    When you scratch, feel my bite,

    I fit in well, a façade with stripes.

    Hunting prey within this grass,

    Running away into my grasp,

    Clasp the notion whence you dance,

    I’ll be back to a no-one,

    A serpent upon sand.

  • Thinking About Righting a Book

    I would do anything for my dreams, whore myself to the page, sell, sell, sell. Didn’t you know that when you reach for your dreams, the monsters sometimes reach back? Why would anyone do this? Why would anyone tear out their damaged soul and configure it into words and place it nice, neat and snug on paper? I have called, clawed and catapulted myself at the walls for this, rejected again; I am a glutton for punishment or publishment. I waft flames, shoot stares and nuke hearts, letting this crazy fly to kamikaze them in the eye. In my mind lives the wars I will never fight.

    Venture further into my blind song, when God shuts out those lights, you know I will write in the dark for you. I self medicated, I did the painkiller drug diet and the only thing I lost was six days. I see the empty remarkable pages and still write by ear but tend to use my hands now, they told me to be like every other writer. 

    I crawl into the corner; the shadows are where I live now. I take the thin corners of the shady sheet and wrap myself in their warmth; this is how I grow in the darkness. All alone again. All coloured pills, a kaleidoscope of new hope. I can feel my heart beat, another one, another bump and my chest will rip ribs open and explode my love all over this room. Baptise my thoughts, can you please keep my head under a little longer. My pen is the tungsten tongue of my brain; these epileptic scribbles say it all, what a mess. I try to etch my pain, writing out my wounds but all I end up doing is drawing blood.

    I am trying to tip the scale into my favour, this wait is never over. I stand and I sit, claw at my azure veins, there is something hibernating beyond the blood, it is too much to bear. I revere my reverie but always reverse over my venerated vernacular. I stomp around in my own personal storm, the cold wind blows, this son sucks too.  Your eyes can save me, douse this page in an excellent accelerant, take in a breath of oxygen, drop my English lit, now witness a man on fire. I am running, I am running, lightning all around me, strikes me down within each strike of my pencil. 

    I’ve learnt from my wrongs, no teaching me,

    I could be wonderful sun-god,

    I’m living on a different frequency,

    I’ve come from the skies,

    Insane knowledge lives deep in me,

    Tear from my eyes my indecency,

    Primal instincts run free within the streets,

    Disrupting the cosmos,

    Falling deep-deep in love,

    Corrupted from the loss,

    Let my hope-star fall from above,

    So I can pick up the cost.

    I’m an animal, just like you,

    I can close my eyes and time-travel,

    The minds baffled as a bouncing ball,

    I climb and grapple over my nightmares shows,

    Time to pick up my pride and fight alone,

    We don’t need words where we’re going!

    So strip yourself of your clothes and fears,

    And join me in planet bowling,

    Manic self-loathing and frantic words woven,

    I’m jamming up traffic when I magically etch my soul’s sins.

    Either on land or water,

    I force my own lamb to the slaughter,

    The damage won’t stop here,

    This is my penance,

    A few more days,

    A couple more lies,

    And I can have my vengeance,

    Upon the world, including family and friends.

  • Out Of Hospital

    Hey guys been in hospital these past few weeks, I’m all good now, one day at a time.

    I will be writing as soon as my brain gets back in gear. So look forward to that. Thank you for the emails people have sent me, checking in, I appreciate you looking out for me.

    I hope you’re all safe and well and working on a colossal masterpiece that changes the face and fate of this world.

    Be good and forever keep those pens busy. Speak soon.


  • A smile

    A smile is an amazing thing, its uses go far beyond.It can paint a picture or happiness,It can hide a source of pain.It can paint a show of affection…

    A smile
  • Feelings Equal Fears By Sammy Tharratt

    Feelings Equal Fears By Sammy Tharratt

    Hi there. I am Sammy Tharratt, I am 30 years old. I am the mother of the most perfect son in the whole world, he is my drive, the reason I get up every morning. I have been writing for a few years now and recently my poetry has been published into a book

    I am quiet but truly focused on my life and my son. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy my work.

    Do you ever feel like all emotions interlink and that you can’t have the good without feeling the bad. Happiness equals fear, you’re finally happy but you get an overwhelming sense of fear about what’s coming. You start questioning it so badly that fear takes over. ‘Yay I’m happy’, but why am I happy, oh know what’s going to happen. I hope no one finds out I’m happy, they’ll break me. 

    I don’t deserve to be happy, why am I happy? Someone’s going to destroy this. And all the time you find yourself reflecting on the negative side that fear actually wins because every time you are happy something always breaks it so you destroy it first.

    Love equals fear. You finally love someone and bam, your heads already planning escape routes and questioning what, when, where and how its going to end. You feel yourself wanting to let you wall down but you just make it bigger, you literally seal your heart inside an iron cage, locked by a thousand locks so you don’t feel your heart shattering yet again. But it’s too late you don’t realise you’ve already done the damage yourself by trying to protect yourself, you self destroy the entire thing and your back at square one with that fear increased and you broke yet again.

    Proud equals fear. You finally let someone in a little and feel proud, or try something you used to love that you haven’t for a long time, get a new job or get promoted in your current and all you can think of the worst outcomes. How am I going to ruin this, why do I feel proud it’s only a small thing no big deal stop being silly. Your overcrowded with been told that your not good enough for things that when you are, your self doubt over takes, you beginning been afraid of every step in that new found pride with fear and it consumes it, swallows it up piece by piece until you just have anxiety about the whole thing, and it’s back to been ‘No big deal’.

    Sadness equals fear. A relationship breaks down, you can’t be sad, you’re the reason it ended because you were too afraid to let them in and show them who you really are, the scars that run deeper than your skin, you were afraid to be yourself so you played pretend you coward. You have no right to be sad, you’re what’s wrong, and bam there’s another wall. Someone’s passed away, you can’t cry, you have to be strong for everyone else because you can’t show emotion, everyone will know your human and they’ll reject you. You have to lock it off and throw away the key, and eventually you forget how to cry, become afraid that your humanity is starting to fade or maybe that people will know the truth about you ‘I am human’.

    Fear equals anger. All this fear that’s built up inside is burning you down and out, you can hear yourself at the bottom ever so slightly screaming help, help. But it’s not coming. It’s not coming. That fear is laughing at you hysterically, cackling in the wind, mimicking anxiety and tearing you down. ‘I just want to be happy’, the next joke. ‘I want to be proud of myself’, never. ‘I want to grieve’, coward.

    That fear makes you look at your reflection in disgust. You are not worthy, you’re ugly no one would want you, you don’t even want yourself.  The truth is the walls we’ve built around to keep everyone else out, also keep us in, and there are so many doors you don’t know which to go through. You curl yourself up in a ball and cry, but it’s not sadness, it’s anger. You scream at the top of your lungs ‘why me, what did I do’. You help everyone around you, you’re polite and kind, you listen to everyone and give the best advice you can, but it’s all a mask…a face of who you know you are but your mind paints it as a picture for everyone else to see instead. You get angry at yourself, call yourself names just to try and break through something, anything at all. But the fear is too strong as it’s built up since day one. All the little things that have hurt you are getting bigger each time it happens. 

    There’s no end to the cycle. You fear your own future, your own reflection, your own self. Now all you’re left with is anger because you’ve let the fear consume you, and you can’t break free. Fear reacts with all emotions, but fits hand in hand with anger so well they laugh at you and your tiny voice as they’ve warned you down so much, you don’t have the strength to knock down your own walls.

    Hey guys, Alex here. This is my very good friend Sammy. I am uploading her first post because I believe she has an awesome gift for showing herself beneath her words. If you can support her work and her blog, you will be amazing.

    Sammy’s Blog is here:

    Thank you.

  • Lost In My Darkness

    HOME is where the hurt is, so, sanity must be the illness, right? Memory is mere suicide of one’s mind. Captured by my past, my memories have me prisoner, remembrance is my murderer, too scared to let my thoughts out, locked down, forever. I’ve always been taught that minor minds cave, you’ll need miners to uncover these tough, rock, taut thoughts. Whatever the weather whether I whither or whether I won’t, these are the voyages of my dark diary days; scrawl scrolls of my bawls when a tear comes to visit a page. Destiny is written within us all, each footstep is a word, each sentence is a mile and each lifetime is a book. No matter your outcome, it will be finished whichever wary way you write it.

    I am cursed and blessed on the same hand of my maker. This world thinks I’m a joke, tell us another. A plethora of clown tears to honk a laugh at, at this point within my life. The only time I feel sane is with a pen, I wield it as if it were my sword in battle; you will see what I shall swing and curve your way. And, once you have read one piece of my work your eyes will protrude beams of light, I will be on your mind.

    Standing in the flames of these words, all I can do with them is set my world on fire. I’m enjoying this pain; let us dance on the ashes of this painful reminder, life. I am more human than human. I cape over this page as if I were a spectacle, bitten by a radioactive firefly; guess what my power is? My self-destruct button has been detonated, a magic mushroom cloud you can read as a nightmare. Do you have smoke in your eyes or are you rubbing your peepers in amazement? I’m drowning on this page; I jumped straight in the deep end, my pen is my life-guard; but don’t save me yet, I’m on fire!

    Stop reading this! My words concocted with my pain can burn out your eyes. You don’t use them anyways; you only read half the stories or read into half-truths. My flair never spontaneously combusted, I had to find the strike for the right match for my mind to go up in flames. I’m inflamed with empathy, I’m a flame-retardant retard; my crazy is never empty. I’m bringing an archaic firing to this paper; this is my form of an S.O.S! I’m holding up my lighter towards the sky. Too intense for the eyes to warrant a tear, my skin will burn and bubble and eventually seep off from my bones. I’m reheating my deserted memories for my fire-demon to slurp up for dessert. Revenge is ice-cream!? A dish best served cold; I run on scolding sultry exhaust fumes; how can I bestow a forest-fire on all those who are cold? In my life, I’m that low, I am waistline, an asshole. 

    I’m living in the past with these third-degree burns, scars have funny ways of reminding you of past mistakes you have made. I scribble with sizzle, fizzle and scrape. I’m breathing inferno while it’s raining torrentially, steaming up your computer screen and singing this very page. This world broke and buried me, now this bad seed is a black flower, which blooms blushing blood. I’m a jack of all trades, I’ve gotten the rapid response late, When I blow my top, along with volcano rocks, my magma words roll this way! Am I destined for greatness with my stories or am I flying too close to the sun? That’s right, melt my wings, boot me out of heaven; I’m already living in Hell. I’m rain-dancing naked, let it reign fire over me; come see what’s inside.

  • The Diary Of An Immortal

    The Diary Of An Immortal

    So once again, I stand on my castle tower staring at my kingdom, the sun has just set and a glow from the horizon still sits waiting to sleep, my only friend and greatest foe. The wind catches my cape and begins to make it almost alive in movement. The year was cart and corset. Humans are heading to the public house beneath me. I can hear every stretch of each leg muscle, and smell every dinner from days before on their breaths travelling in the cold air of an English dusk. The stray dogs below run in packs, chasing prey through the floor of the forests. Beyond the forest sits as an expanding industrial town which is trying to forget the past by building the future. Howls, hoots and drunken shouts control the echoes on the background of the snow enchanted mountain-side that deathly shadows the valley. The path from my home to the town moves like a serpent’s influence before a strike. And I am waiting for a target to capture, my patience sits on top of this world.

    Hours have passed when I zoom in on a young maiden walking alone on the streets, covering herself up with her shawl from the murderous chill in the air, her black hair is knotted and her clothes are tattered, but to me through these hunger filled eyes, she is the most beautiful of creatures to ever consume my sight. The thirst almost sexual begins to take over my calm nature, my heart and adrenaline start obsessing over this being. I must have her; I must get closer and taste the music that plays within her. This feeling is almost benevolence but the undercurrent of this feeling is animalistic and dangerous. I am not an evil that you know of but I do have similar traits of them all, even though all distasteful myths dawned on me.

    I step forward towards the edge of the castle. Downwards is Red Speckle Lake, which roars like violent emotions at the peak of passion when their colours kiss one another. I leap from the bounds of gravity from the structure into the air, I let its solitude drag me towards the lake for one second then with no effort I speed on the body of the wind silently towards the town; the smell in my sinuses of her overpowers any last rational judgment of human within this shell.

    I land on a small home rooftop, gently stepping into a better view as I watch her, within the confines of the shadows of the chimney and darkness rays, I dare not blink. She stops in her tracks, her heartbeat begins to rush with fearful thoughts from her mind until it engulfs the world to its rhythm, then becomes deafening, killing the silent environment with the pounding. I move like an African wildcat into position. I creep towards the building’s edge, in a prowling shape; the saliva appears from my bottom lip, ready to lunge for an attack – suddenly a window opens.

    “Claudia, come home!” A voice.

    I retreated back to the shadow’s embrace, my prey escaped in a watched upon run home by one of her family members.

    “Damn, it was a love not to be, Claudia.” I sigh.

    But all is not lost as I am in the centre of my foods breeding ground and any human will cure my curse of starvation. I look across the town’s skyline, another beauty with loneliness within her pavement steps, trying to keep her drunken mobility to herself as she has judged the world correctly, as a dangerous zoo where true evil has no sex and will strike quietly at the weak. Her face walks the pavement to make sure her eyes do not lead in the wrong impression to other unsociable eyes. A clever action is needed in this hunt, if my mouth will become filled. I come back to the throws of gravity and begin to trek through the filth and rat ridden streets, through the crowds of drunken farmers, industrial workers and street walkers.

    “You look in need of a release, stranger” A street-walker jaws to me.

    I stare at her; all of her facial features are outlined with black make-up highlights, her eyes, lips and imperfections. She fidgets with her blood coloured wavy red hair, wearing an old faded purple corset, she smells of her last sex victim.

    “And you look like you will die by the hands of one of your drunken strangers, that will be your release, my sweet” I reply calmly.

    There are too many eye witnesses to take her life; the screams would draw attention, even though the thought had passed my hunger threshold a few times. I proceed in my endeavour.

    The stars have begun to dance in the sky to the sound of change in climate. Winter is closing in, meaning longer nights and lesser days, a predator’s playground and the game will set off earlier. My eyes scream to be fed as I look for my love, she is nowhere in sight, her footsteps do not escape, her pace has quickened as she has left the comfort of the mobs. Her footsteps are like war drums heading for an unwanted battle, I was her opponent that would be revealed afterwards in this ordeal as victorious. Through the invisible crowds I pass, with a human sensation of lust and want. Her face to me is still faceless, my steps equal her own and my cape begins snapping at the air as teeth to the inedible, her presence shifts around a building’s corner; she becomes missed until my eyes climb around also to see her kneeling, picking up her purse. Her eyes rose like the sun to me, at this time set like it was extinguished by the fear of being the only life alive on the street. I reacted quickly as her look made me desire death.

    I cross the street; if I was to approach her at that instant her voice would become loud and attractive to others. She rises, our bodies mirror on both streets pavements as we walk, both sets of eyes wander and wonder, both sets of lives are about to collide, her eyes do not leave my side, disbelief in my walking here rages through her. Voices further on the road chatter to one another, I stop and look upon the passers, scruffy and drunk as they stumble towards my maiden, I throw her another look, Beauty has only one word, you, a perfect body structure she is blessed with, brains and looks were her way forward in life, men from a distance would bow to her also, she also stops, her eyes rip through my camouflage and manifest itself within her as an idea to scurry to her home.

    She is charged by her street protectors, I have taken too long on my preparation for food; her brown hair ravishes her face as she runs. I run down an alley and leap to the roofs head and crawl back in the shadows in search for her, She is located at her front door, entering and slamming away the world, She walks into her living area, she is projected through her window to me through the nettings, out of breath and second guessing her motives in running from only her uncomfortable actions out in the street.

    I take a few back steps until I am pressed against a chimney breast, One step then two, then I am pushing by the wind’s fingertips, over the streets drunken hassles but hovering above her home then gently planting myself on her roof. I listen to her, trudging around her rooms as a spoilt child does when they have been found out for their trouble dealings. Her coat of warmth is removed and thrown on her bed, a deep breath and her hair is brushed behind her ears, she gradually toes towards the window to see if her uncertain follower was still on her street, the street lights were not that clear to reveal all, but the outline of any beings come from the passed out alcoholics, propped up against the wall trying to sleep or piss.

    Her double windows split to let in the night, far above people’s bodies, safety has enclosed her doubt. But like a spider to the fly I climb down my web of brickwork until I am vertically above her, I watch how she moves, her head shifting from side to side staring into the dark corners of her familiar surroundings looking for unanswered questions of why and who. She rests with a smile of self embarrassment and sigh of relief. A gust of Gods breath tears through the valley, through the fields to the streets, my cape begins to flicker trying to escape from me on the wind’s back. I stand from the wall, gravity is calling but its human cursed design has no effect on me because I am no mere mortal or infinite watcher. Her heart then sinks as my cape droops beside her sight swaying; her eyes follow the black shadow of clothing up to the heavens. Until faces and worlds nudge, she tries to reach for breath for a scream but I snatch the breath before it exits by grabbing her by her mouth.

    “Hush, Hush, Hush, if this was not you, then who?” I hungrily imply with some respect. I looked left and right, up and down the street to see if a circus had gathered, nothingness had shown its body. My stomach begins gnawing at my ribs, trying to tear a hole to eat, I falter in my intentions for a split-second; my hands re-enters the big game, one around her mouth and the other supporting the back of her skull, I begin to back, back up the building’s costume.

    As I drag her upwards with depression on my quakes and a sea of regret on a tear, her dress becomes entangled in guttering. My eyes become bloodshot, sorrow almost undresses from me but then I shoot at her one look of blood from my eyes and with an unearthly scream, I pull on this woman’s head, her body rips away from the bottom half of her dress, she acrobats into the air somersaulting above me until she lands with a thud on the roofs garden. I leap upwards and land, she is lying there with pain mesmerized on her face. I walk over, with her between my leg stems and stare downwards beyond the path that I am on, she glares pleases and no’s, I kneel to her.

    “Please forgive me, if there was another way, even if I triple the effort, I would be there.” I recite remorsefully.

    I feel her heart then caress her face; I wipe away reasons for me not to hurt her, brushing her caught, stressed brown hair from her mouth.

    “What is your name my sweet?” I ask.

    She is hesitant in her words, the fear and whys control her vocal cords.

    “My, my name is Piper. Please, why are you doing this?” She purrs me in saddened bubbles from her mouth.

    “If you let me kiss you slightly first, I will explain all for you” I whisper.

    She nods in agreement to my proposal as she has run out of crossroads to run down from me to chase, my head bends down in a slow fashion, her bottom jaw begins to shudder, to my close in. Our lips meet, every feeling she has ever felt circulates through me like a wild drug, her memories that are sent to me like an unsought plague that has the essence of love, fear and pain flowing as rogue waves. The world from me falls away in this kiss, I hold her face in my hands as the sexual rush overpowers. We part, my head rises from hers with a smile that could light the night skies, my woman forgets for the time, why I am here and she delivers a real smile to me. I thrust my hands to the right in one quick action, with her head still placed in my possession, snap; I snatched the yelp from her neck. Death is now her gift to the world. Now with my eyes closed I hold up my hand and clench it and with one power punch, I drive my fist into her chest and take hold of her heart, I drag it out, the red shields my skin. I puncture into the heart’s fundamental nature with a hundred years of famine within my drive; I am a shark eating a peach with its juices dodging the inevitable dinner bell.

    A short wait before reality sinks into my stomach, I am and have hurt, the hunger dies away finally. My head shakes in disgust at me; I sit distraught for a short while wiping away the blood from my fingers, palms and mouth on the maidens dress. Not my crave for I am my own grave.

    I pick her up in my arms and rock back and forth, my tears bleed from me.

    “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I wish there was a hell for what I am compelled to do.” I rehearse in thin air.

    I pressed my face against hers as she was all alone, when I took her from her peace and with that I let out a devilish roar to the stars that could tremor even the most fearless of higher functioning animals. I pick up my lady and shoot up into the open sky with an army in my eye and criminal on my fogged breath, I am broken again. I glide through the air everything has merged to one; the rain has started to sprinkle down along with hail.

    I come back to the castle in seconds and float downwards towards Red Speckle Lake, I enter the water still holding on to Piper, until I am half-submerged in its clutch. She lies in my arms, everything has stopped within her. I put her under and let the water take her the rest of the journey. She sinks further into the lagoon as its deepest of darkness clasps her. Her hair, arms and legs begin to waltz as she fades to memory. Now that the rain has slowed, I cry but one cries for her, the thunder is now the cover to the thrashing within my lung, I let out.

    She has now been fed back to the world, out of sight but never out of mind. I leave the water with flight, mixed with a fleeing feeling; I gain height until I am perched back on my castle’s roof. I turn and look back out to the horizon, the sun has been dead for hours and replacing it is a red moon accompanied with clouds, I look back down to the town, not a pitch fork or lit torch in sight. The humans have no idea, still drinking their salaries away. My cape finally sleeps hunger filled and heavy to the rain. I go over my recollection of what had happened, if there was another door I could have gone through to have not murdered Piper, a cage or shackle spring to mind but guillotine or hanging that would be my true test. I kneel down and place my hand on the slate of my roof’s side guard, eyes sheltered.

    “May you now look after her; world as she is the only one we have.” I demand a small prayer.

    I fall backwards until I am on my back, lying down; the rain beats off me as ball-bearings from one million pistols of the heavens.

    I stand slowly, watching the clouds curdle, with a snap of my fingers towards the sky, the rain halts. The town streets have emptied and I enter my home through a huge wooden door.

  • All My Heart

    You set my heart on fire; solar flares eviscerate everything when we touch in dark spaces. Do you want to know who I am in love with? Go back to the start of this and look at the first word. There’s not enough math in this universe to work out how much I love you, you equals me. This is our endless book; we only have our beginning then we just keep going. If you’re having a bad day, I will steal someone else’s sunshine and hold it over your black cloud, that’s my job. When I am losing touch with reality you make sure I never lose your touch.

    When the world presses my buttons and I break the television because I am having an episode, they have no remote chance to control me, but you channel my frequency and switch me back. Your love is my favourite sound, if I ever lose my hearing on the way home, I will follow your sign. I woke up from a bad dream, I just sat there and listened to you snore, you’ll deny ever making such a gargle but trust me, you do. You’re my little shark fin, you’ve always got my back when I go swimming in deep waters with a back stroke.

    You are a rare flower, let me plant this kiss. Loving the perfect you has shown me how inferior I am, I am headstrong and dim-witted, at times, that still doesn’t stop you. You will always be my first love; I will always be your last victim.