Live Your Dreams... | |||||||||||||||||
| That Night | |||||||||||||||||
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He strolls into the room that night two hours after myself, walking determinedly toward a place near the back, hidden in the shadows. I have taken a place in the same menacing dimness in an adjacent corner. No one knows that I'm here, and no one, excluding myself, knows that he has arrived. I can see him clearly without seeing completely. I have seen him recently, yet I can't comprehend where. The look, the walk seem so familiar to me, but I have yet to understand why. Suddenly there is a flash of light and time seems to come to a discontinuation. All matters of life has ceased, all that is left around me is that light. The strike of the match illuminates his face briefly and I struggle to regain my breath. I DO know that face, but where? My head becomes dizzy as I watch the way the flame dances toward his cigarette, playing with it, caressing it, teasing it. Then finally it ignites the cylinder with such heat. Oh, to be near him, feeling that heat spew forth toward me. The air becomes thick, I long for that moment to feel that fire, that blaze burning and reaching out to touch me. All this passion and lust-filled want from watching this man. I long to be the golden, orange embers near that mouth that I know nothing of. | ||||||||||||||||
| Stalking Death | |||||||||||||||||
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What is it, I ask myself. What is it that I can smell, hear, touch and taste so clearly? I know what it is, but I wouldn't tell a soul. No one knows this past buried deep within me. No one knows, and thats how it will stay. Life continuously beats through-out the earth as I gaze upon this unknowing prey, yet maybe, just maybe this prey of mine knows. It knows like the birds know to fly southward when the air turns cold. It is nature, it is a habit, it just happens. Instinct perhaps? Well, who am I to argue with instinct. That alone has kept me alive more than once. These keen eyes watch this soon-to-be victim and somewhere, somehow it is watching me. Its eyes are closed yet they see everything, every movement that I plan carefully, every little tilt of my head in thoughful pondering. If it knows what I am thinking, then why isn't it running just as my thoughts are? It knows my movement, my plans, my thoughts, yet it stays motionless like the ocean on a completely calm night. Why? I want to scream, nothing has ever fascinated me or angered me so much, why this thing, this unimportant thing? My decision is made, I go to make my move. This is my nature, my habit, and it just happens. I must go forth with this, and finish what is left to do. Walking carefully toward it, I seem to become invinsible, nothing can stop me. My breath is reeled from my lungs, my heart explodes from my chest. Its done, not my way, its way. I'm finished. Its nature, its habit, and it just happened. | ||||||||||||||||
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