GLIMMERS
random snippets, thoughts, wanderings, aphorisms, fictitious facts, & everything in between
a fallen star
she fell from the heavens, landed in my heart, and kissed me with such ferocity that the entire constellation of humanity melted away. her love was a fervor, it desired to consume me. i desired to disintegrate in it, like stardust scattered across the cosmos, but i was too broken and lost to consent to the annihilation of loving her, of giving her everything she deserved and more.
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she was the light in the world i was searching for, a quest i believed would last a lifetime until i encountered her golden aura and beautiful soul. she was the fairy that danced in my dreams and played with my hair. she was the sparkle in the universe. and i let her go, like a butterfly i believed could fly higher without me.
a beautiful haunting
Somewhere in the slippery pocket of time, an eternal elsewhere glimmers. It is not a memory. For it is more than one. Because where a memory eventually slips away like inky water between our frail fingers, an eternal elsewhere lives on in the fabric of the universe, forever existing and whispering sweet melancholic melodies to anyone sensitive enough to listen.
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You and I became that whisper in the universe, that melody. We became that alien timeline, that thread in the wild fabric of the universe that will forever glow purple. We became ghosts. We became a beautiful haunting. We became a love so wild and pure, like a lost pearl in the darkness that is the bottom of the sea. And like all that is pure and beautiful in a cruel and broken world, the entire cosmos reordered itself in shock. For when something is so terribly real in a so terribly false world, pain is always promised. And so we became ghosts to protect the most beautiful and fearless parts of our soul from the world riddled with our fears disguised as monsters in the shadows that would tempt to tear us apart. So, we became a beautiful haunting to haunt the world that wished to break a love like ours.
a D Y I N G ghost selections
My beloved ghost and me are dying sitting in a tree. A haunted melody with the chill of a biting wind circles us like a snake curling at our feet. The song recalls all the moments where we almost had it all, all the moments I believed you loved me, intoxicated by the kindness in your heart, chased by all the moments I feared you lied to me about who you were, terrified of your touch and the intentions circling behind your eyes. So, say it once again with feeling. Let the words I love you fall delicately and earnestly from your lips one more time. I know you won’t. But let me see if you can resurrect the ghosts of us that haunt the dreams you engulfed in fire. Let me see if the demonic flames behind your eyes can disintegrate to ash. Let me see if you can shake me from the snaring delusion that keeps bringing me to the cemetery where you will not remain entirely buried, and where I remain entirely and tragically bewildered.
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I do not wander into this graveyard willingly. The unholy tombstones, the overgrown ivy, and the decrepit trees resurrect around me from shards of broken memories that like thorns still tear at my skin. I find myself in this cemetery when I hear our song in the jukebox of the peculiar pub we sat in, when I see the phantoms of us dancing to the melody that somehow always rewound the clocks.
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Oh we were a painting of heaven on earth, we were legendary—until we were only momentary, until the ink bled, until the voices in your head began to descend and in a blink of an eye all that was beautiful turned to dust and was dead, and it was hell that laid beside me in bed. And I find myself back in the cemetery where you won’t remain buried. But where I once saw the ghosts of us waltzing, I now see me screaming as you stare at me with shadows curdling behind your eyes, with violence swimming in your mind. I see you forcing me to swallow your lies; I see me slowly loosing my mind. I see you chaining me to the sniveling whispers and wicked whims of your demons; I see me bleeding on the altar as you sacrificed me to the voices in your mind.
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So, say it once again with feeling. Say you love me. I want to know if I will believe you. I want to know if my heart will ache or recoil. I want to know if your voice will be the melody I remember or the wretched scratch that still rings in my ear. I want to know if I see the man I fell in love with or the monster I ran away from. I want to know who you are. I want to know if any of it was ever real. I want to know if my beloved ghost and me was only ever just a dream. I want to know…
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Yet I know I can never know. I know I am fated to the desolate and murky territories of the unknown when it comes to ever understanding your shadows, shadows that twisted my mind, that tore through my body, shadows that strangled me to death. So I traverse this haunted cemetery as a ghost myself, but where you won’t remain buried, I remain deeper than six feet under.
she is love(less) selections
This story begins from a mythical, fractured, and broken place—my memory. It is an intangible place. In fact it is nonexistent. It is imagined from the salvaged remains of a burning house. A house she set fire to some time ago, splintering reality in a single moment and cascading a change that rattles and snaps into lifetimes beyond just hers and mine.
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This story, the story of us, is miraculously resurrected from rewound clocks, singed photographs, broken furniture, ruined walls, tattered letters, and scorched moments. It is single instances, ordinary things, precious whispers, echoing laughter, sacred entanglements, smashed, ruined, and broken—and rearranged, reconstituted, given new meaning, new life, suddenly becoming the bones of a fairytale. Suddenly becoming a mysterious and alluring story that haunts like a memory but only exists as a fictitious dream. No longer real. Only a fabric of my imagination.
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They say to never forget. Always remember. But I let the house burn, the memories with it, and I let a story fill in the cracks, the gaps, the gash across my broken heart.