Love birds

Together we fly,Together we saw,
My feathered girl and I
across the moor.
For in no bird
have I seen such beauty,
as my beautiful Zambooti.

She follows me,
as I do her.
I protect my love,
from troubles which occur.
And here she stands
beneath my wing,
and together we do sing,

until one day,
her heart did fail,
and the life in her,
away, set sail,
then I could feel
my heart in my head,
and there we lay together, in love and dead.

The start of darkness Part 2

The days went by as usual and before long all had the appearance of being forgotten. Everything was the same as it had been before my traumatic realisation and I had no desire to confront it. My life remained a grey abis as it had for months. Only one thing had changed since the December night I had uncovered miserable truth; when I looked at my parents now their was a shadow in my eyes which had not been their previously. nobody could see it, it was hardly noticeable but it was there and it was growing. Daily it haunted my thoughts whenever my parents were around, though as of yet this was the only power it held over me for I would not succumb to let the shadow manipulate my actions.

It was four months after the night of my parents unveiling when at last I was confronted. Claiming that this was due to cowardice is truth, but I feel I can not claim their to be a wrongness in this as I myself neither confronted them or told my sister what I knew. Like I imagine my parents were doing I was doing in miniature. We all spent months placing excuses in front of the trouble in front of us 'its to close to christmas' 'I don't want to ruin Molly's birthday' 'I have to much work to do' just a few of the things I told myself.

Eventually however the day came, on the day of my Aunts birthday party. We were due to leave for the party in an hour so I was tidying my room before getting ready to leave. A found a footsteps coming up the stairs reached my ears, but I continued - perfectly calm. The white door behind me swung open bringing with it a slight breeze into my room. My mother entered and I turned to face her. In her hand was a pile of washing which she graciously placed on the cream sofa beside her. It was the silents and grace of this action that made me awear that something wasn't. Her skin was slightly paler then it's usual peach colour and her eyes gave my a pitying look though in didn't even register this until later replaying of the memory. She absent mindedly walked over to my bed and sat down, all the while her eyes remained on me as though I held some great answer to an unasked question. She looked down at her she for a moment, as though now longing my absents then raised her head with such effort it was as though gravity was more active on it then it was or anything else. She caught my blue eyes and said "will you sit down?" I knew even surer now that this was not good."I'd rather stand" I replied.

When I was upset or nervous I always preferred to stand so I could sway gently releasing some of my emotions through my movement. It was calming to do so, enabled me to level my head. I could look slightly above or below the eyes of someone talking to me as they'd be a different height. When I did so I could focus on what they were saying but not feel the pain the words bore because I didn't have to see the sorrow in someones eyes. My hands could be in my pockets, clenching whatever was within them in my fists. I never felt comfortable unless I wasn't holding something. But most of all I could leave. As soon as the conversation ended I was able to escape able to run, to be free.

This time, however, I could not stand. My mother insisted on my sitting beside her. Then she muttered the words "I need to tell you something, your father and I..." It was as though I was 10 again and she was telling me that Santa Claus was not real. As soon as she'd opened her mouth to explain what she needed to tell me I knew the answer and interrupted her. "You're getting a divorce" I finished her sentence for her. She was slightly stunned by my response. It was not until a few seconds later, though not nearly long enough, that she responded "Yes. How did you know?" Without thinking about it I gave my answer "it was obvious". I regretted it the moment I'd said it, now I'd have to explain to her what I'd seen. But how could I? Right on cue she asked the dreaded question "How was it?" At first I gave a brief answer "It just was" but feeling I needed to add to this I explained to her that I'd seen dads shoes by the spear bed which was now out every night, how I'd seen dads dates written on the calender, I'd noticed how they didn't act how they used to - it wasn't until the end of the long list that I briefly mentioned having seen the website on the computer and made it sound rather irrelevant. "ok" was my mothers only response. I wished she'd go, get up and leave, I didn't want to be around here anymore, but she stayed. She spent the next 15 minutes asking how I felt, explaining how my dad had a girlfriend and was going to move, but try to live close, how she was going to buy his half of the house off of him, how me and my sister were going to stay here. I didn't care about any of it except that it was evident we were getting the choice of who we'd live with - it was going to be her. How was it that the one thing, the only thing I had been sure of wasn't going to happen. Why had I been so wrong? Hoping it would end the conversation soon I asked "Does Molly know?" My sister was what mattered now, for I had known most of what I had just heard for months where as she did not. 12 years old, coming up to the most challenging time in her life, and her life was about to change without warning. "No, but I'm going to tell her now." Relief flooded over me at the sight of an end to this torturous discussion. 'Good luck Molly' I thought to myself. It was then that I decided that getting closer to my sister was a necessity - after all it was just us now. "your dad will talk to you about this when you get back from your aunts tomorrow" my mother said before rising from where she was seated and leaving my room without looking back at me.

As the door swung shut behind her it all become real to me. This was really happening. My parents were splitting up. A wave of sadness and anger came over me and I fell to my knees. I didn't know how to act or what to do. So I just stayed there for a moment, unable to cry but unable to be happy. Reality was now staring me in the face and my darkened shadow was staring back.

On the way to the party all I could think about was the feeling inside my chest, the feeling the a darkness was their. Every time I saw my mother it roared like a dragon inside of me, but even when i was watching the pacing countryside it was growling. Changes around the darkness were gradually breaking and it was becoming free. It was telling me to ignite and rebel. As Khaled Hosseini once wrote "There is only one sin. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft." The words replayed in my head. She had stolen what was left of my happiness and for that I was not sure if she could ever be forgiven. I knew my parents had made the right decision, they weren't meant to be together - yet the darkness was thinking for me now and I would not contain it. A glint of red sparked in my eye as we continued towards the party.

To be continued...

The start of darkness Part 1

You could say that nothing bad has ever happened in my life, and I guess that in a way you'd be right. I've never been attacked, been seriously ill or even been close to anyone who has died. You could say that nothing bad has ever happened in my life, but I think you'd be wrong.

My life had been cloudy for five long months on the day I got struck with realisation. I'd never been very close to my parents, but I'd never truly hated them before that day either.

As usual on a weekday evening I was home alone. As I've already stated, I've never been very close to my parents. My dad was on his way home from work... for a change. Thought the thought of my dad arriving home at 5:30 as apposed to after a few drinks in no way lightened my mood like it should, but it was no doubt a good thing all the same. My younger sister, Molly, could be at dancing, with a friend or near on anywhere really. I was never really sure where she was. I didn't have much of an idea where my mum was either; she often went out with her friend Hannah after, but for all I knew she could have been dead - I don't even think my life would have changed that much if she had been. Not knowing where those I lived with were had seemed normal to me for 2 years at this point. Some weekend mornings I could wake up not knowing who was at home, let alone where anyone was. So all in all it was normal school night for me. As was routine having been home for bout an hour I ambled downstairs and onto the family computer.

Time ticked way with my bordem as I waited impatiently for the computer to load. When eventually the Internet had loaded i clicked onto favourites in order to find facebook, my favourite social site, on top of the list. It wasn't. In its place was a website called 'okcupid.com'. This confused me greatly. Why would anyone from my household use this? There must have been a mistake. Being as naive as I was I clicked on it. To this day I still wish I hadn't, wish I had broken the illusion of my life. But I did.

Seconds when past like hours as I waited for the page to appear before me. After what could have only been a couple of minuets the page had loaded. To my absolute horror I saw my fathers face looking back at me. This couldn't be happening, not really, could it? With disbelieving eyes I stared at the page, all the while knowing that this was reality, that it was there. What had I done to deserve this? I unfroze. The words before me now began to register within my brain. On the top right of the page there was a facts section. One of them jumped out at me as soon as I'd seen the words. The first read " Join date: August 1". This meant that my parents had been separated for at least four and a half months, without dropping a word. I didn't know what I was feeling, what should I be feeling? What would anyone else be feeling? My eyes then fell upon the line beneath this which said "looking for: New friends, short-term dating, long-term dating". This was a nightmare, it had to be, my parents were not my favourite people in the world but they were not arrogant enough to keep this from us. They would have said something by now, wouldn't they? I could feel a darkness growing inside of me, but I didn't try to suppress it. Let the darkness rise and become my controller, I had nothing to lose.

With a tremendous effort i kept reading the page. It was as though this web page was a drug. As soon as I saw it I was drawn to it and now I had seen its secrets I couldn't let go of it. I must keep reading, for otherwise there was nothingness and I would be lost. I read the self summary next. Mostly, this was just waffle about my dads hobbies and interests, nothing of much significance t all. Until I reached the last line. "I have said that I am single, which is how I now regard myself to be, but the reality is I am still married. The divorce will happen when I get the motivation to do so. I have two children Sophie and Molly aged 14 and 11. I love them and they will always be a part of my life." This time, I couldn't read on. It was lies, all lies. It was as though I was being enlightened, but by the devil. Everything now made sense, my fathers absences, the lack of family holidays, the spear bed always being out. Bleeding upon the floor beside me was the part of my heart which had once belonged to my family. "buboom... buboom" slower and slower it beat "buboom... buboom" a train coming to a holt "buboom... buboom" until "buboom" it stopped forever and was gone.

Tears began trickling down the side of my face at the loss, blurring my vision. This was one of those moments that we all experience in our lives where we know that this is the end of all that is known and nothing can be the same again. So i printed out the page as a symbol of that moment, of that day, of that change. Without it, I think I would have imagined it all a dream.



Later that night, when was in bed, I let the tears fall. The devils words were on repeat within my head and with each replaying my darkness grew closer to the surface. After many hours I fell into a light sleep, but it followed me. Flashes of that night are all I can remember. A full moon, tangled trees, an empty room, cloaked figures, howling winds. Puzzles peaces which to this day I can not fit together.

For a moment the next morning I'd forgotten about the last 24hours, but only for a moment. Before long my memory leaked through into my dazed reality. My hand reached under my pillow for the print out, to my dismay my finger tips touched quicker then I had hoped for. Inside I was burning, but there was no way to put out the fire - I could only lower its glare. Questions were rolling around in my head as the I was a journalist. Why didn't they tell me? Why had I had to find out for myself? Why had I been so nosey? What was I going to do now? but most importantly 'who was I going to live with?' The answer came to me almost as fast as the question had, neither. I didn't want to live with either of them. Lieing to me about something that would change my whole life, does that sound like what family would do to you? It sounded like my dad was going to be the one leaving us as though we were but a childish dream, but we'd get a choice who we lived with. I was sure of that and that alone.

Making myself more upset by doing so, I began thinking about what it would be like living with mum. Several reasons not to stay with her instantly sprung to mind. She was always with her best friend Hannah and her 2 year old daughter Lily-mae. They were never in! This would mean me trying to cook on a regular basis. Then their is the fact that I've always gotten the feeling that my mother preferred my sister to myself. At this time especially they were so much more alike then me and my mother had ever and possibly will ever be. To start with they are both very musical people playing around 3 instruments each, where as I had always been more of a lyricist. They both enjoying ballet and tap and generally as well as shopping and wearing dresses - I was about as far from this as any civilised human being could be. So generally they had similar personalities and interests and I was just left there on the outside in my own world separate from the four of then. But above all else I think the reason I didn't want to live with her was how much we clashed . We'd have arguments of the tiniest little things just because of seeing the world differently and there was nothing I wanted more than to escape the standards and dreary world she forced me to live through. I can't remember a time when things were right between us, it was just a role of disappoints which lead to separation and then later to arguments. This I needed to escape.

Then there was my father, the man whom I had always relied on, the man who raised me, played with me as a child, the man who broke my heart. One weeknights his presence was even rarer than mums, though on weekends he was home he'd try to make it up by spending time with me - but now I knew this was out of guilt and that alone. Plus there was the idea of moving, it might be nice to get away but I grew up here, my friends were here, I had memories here and that's one change I don't think I could have coped with. You may be surprised by the fact that I didn't include the prospects of him having a new girlfriend, but to be honest when I was a child I would look at my parents and I could never understand why they were together. Its tragic I know, but its true. Besides, who am I to tell him not to pursue his happiness when their is a darkness inside of me, when I had been living looking for that ray of sunshine to break through the grey. No his future was his choice. So really I'd rather live with my father but I wouldn't want to burden him with my being there.

A week past and my friends were convinced that I should tell my parents that I knew of their secret but what did they know. One friend was so worried she threatened to tell them herself unless I did so. When a week later she did not bring the topic up I thought she'd forgotten or assumed no matter what telling them was something I wouldn't do. I say 'I thought' as the next day she unveiled herself. She believed that I'd made the whole thing up for attention and even stated that "[she] refused to give me any more sympathy". Unfortunately many of my friends agreed with her saying I was "fabricating it all". Anger bubbled inside of me at the arrival of this news. How dare they think I'd do that. How dare they think I would fake such a serious matter, or that anybody would. This thought process was clearly evident within my response for she was taking aback at my reply. It didn't even faze me - I wanted to raise my fist a force it into the side of her skull, but I didn't. One look into those deep green eyes which I new so well calmed me instantly. It was as though they had a power over me that I couldn't explain and changing my mood was only one of their abilities. So I took a breath and journeyed onwards in the unknown...

To be continued...


　

Concious thoughts

I forgot.
How could I forget?
No hour, nor minuet, nor second
should be absent from you.

Wavering thoughts,
I order their banishment!
For without your presents,
 all are deadly.

The ship has sunk,
my absents.
The plain has crashed,
all lives lost.

I must remember...
help me remember,
keep me remembering!
So she stands protected

My Angel

There she stands, the angel,
on level ground, yet looking down on the rest,
gliding, she moves all she does touch,
But I shall not fall prey to such witchcraft!
these lips shall not pleasure her
as those smiling lips of all whom engulf her.
kneeling are all those whom ever beheld the angel,
weak victims of mere elegance are but men,
I am above such fools as this,
those whom hold their heart in open hand,
Beauty she sees in their shadowed eyes,
but no such beauty will she see in me!
My angel is lost. And i am without.
Perfection is hers, yet it is brought by the devil!
Oh what wo is this, when she can not be had?
No stains may i leave on her white dress,
as she is a prize no man can gain...
and yet she is a prize worthy or mine time.
My angel shall havet' see reason,
Or else doomed shall she be to point she came;
Strangled and banished this refusal of me be!
It will not be endured from mine grandeur.
Round her throat shall none elegant hands be clasped
until my angels choir is stopped forever.
Alas, gone is the torture on me, and now:
My angel is my own.

troubled minds

Horrified ears,

Lead troubled minds,

Break tortured hearts,

Blacken innocent soles,

Tempt poisonous lips,

Control angered hands,

Damage everything ahead,

So why do we let it in?

Instead, hear good with your horrified ears,

Enlighten your troubled mind,

Calm your tortured heart,

Purify your blackened sole,

Close your poisonous lips,

Open up your angered hands, and say I love you.

up

That moment when you're feeling down,
Get up and take your head off the ground,
You think they don't matter, But you know they do,
So why let people do this to you,

It's not all as your mind is saying,
It's just an imprint, something portraying,
You know things can change, And the day is nearly done,
So get up from that floor, and then you've won