My body is a bomb shelter. Containing explosions that save the world and erode my insides until they are unrecognizable. Throw me your hand grenades without fear. For I will save you. My walls are thick and fortified, built from self denial and undying optimism. They can’t be crumbled from any threat on the outside. While the interior slowly deteriorates with the murky residue of supposed martyrdom trickling through misplaced hope.

I thought it made me stronger, taking on everyone’s tragedies like all they needed was the hero I could be. Give me your pain. Give me your struggle. Give me your hatred and let me shoulder it alone. Save yourself and run while I hold onto what I can. It’s in my hands. They are capable and willing. Unaware their strength is dwindling with each death grip. My muscles weaken under the pressure so I hold tighter. Pile on your pain so I can distract myself from my own.

I watch for the smiles and flashes of gratitude with every gun shot bang, but all I see are the backs of heads. Because I did my job. I took the hurt so they could walk away. Maybe I should have asked them to wait.

If only I could let go, maybe it would be myself I could save.

Ablaze a rainbow riot of colours,

I rollick in the verdant field.

Hues of light, like jovial clowns, silly and insouciant.

Backdrop, azure blue, saffron sunset.

Life passes by in the blink of an eye.

Relish Mother Nature's gratuitous gifts.

Meandering on this picturesque path,

excitable butterflies dance.

Saccharine-scented air fills my lungs.

The shadow of the mountain covers me like a woollen blanket and nurturing soft kisses.

Blissfully free.

isalittlebroken

My name is Harper and in six months I am going to die.

I know this because I paid for the privilege. You can do testing for anything nowadays, and apparently your expiration date is one of them.

I had money to spare, I was bored, and yes, I foolishly thought the test would tell me some distant faraway age like eighty-two or maybe even one hundred and two. When I found out my expiry date was in six months, I began to have a really, really bad case of buyer’s remorse.

I went through quite a lengthy denial period, where I thought I could go through the rest of my life pretending that if I just do things exactly the same way and not change anything I would conveniently forget and everything would be fine and dandy. (This was by far my favorite coping mechanism. But it didn’t last. Eventually my anxiety bubbled up and exploded like a shaken champagne bottle.)

Next came an obsessive, defiant, planning phase. Everyday I would think of elaborate plans to avoid death like I could somehow scheme my way out of it. I mean, theoretically, it seems doable. Plane crash? Don’t go on a plane. Car accident? Just stay home all week. Heck, heart attack? Pop three baby aspirins and hang out in the hospital lobby, right next to the crash cart ready to wave a big sign that says “I’m having a heart attack.” Unfortunately the test didn’t provide the cause of death, just the exact time, so I couldn’t really plan in specifics.

Eventually all the planning became incredibly exhausting and I settled into a kind of defeated acceptance. My plan was still not to actively put myself in a situation where I could die, I was not quite ready to submit to my annihilation, but if I somehow still find myself in that situation anyway, I figured I should really work on trying to be okay with that.

So then I commenced on a hedonistic three months where I blew half of my life savings and did literally anything I could think of. I ziplined through the forests of Peru, skydived over the French countryside, drank the best wines and indulged in rich Italian food, snorkeled off the shores of Bali, shopped with abandon while perusing the streets of Tokyo, London, Dubai…

You get the idea.

The most pathetic part of this whole thing was that I didn’t have a family to spend my last few days with. Or close friends, really. My impending death would not be filled with earnest mourning and last minute tearful proclamations of love and reminiscing. Oh sure, my funeral would be packed, but nobody would miss me, not really. As an orphaned twenty-two year old who inherited too much money at an early age, not only was I kind of an entitled asshole, I also haven’t really lived yet. I haven’t fallen in love or had kids, wrote that great American novel, won a Pulitzer, or experienced any of that syrupy sweet stuff life is supposedly made of.

Anyway, that’s why I’m hanging out in the hospice ward.

My friend here is Lucas. He is twenty-nine and has end stage heart failure from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. He described it as his heart being too big - literally but I suspect it's also an accurate description of him figuratively. I befriended him five months ago when I found out I was going to die. And no, surprisingly, he does not have any wisdom to impart about acceptance and healing and the meaning of life. He is very not okay with his young, awesome life being cut short, thank you very much.

He did have some useful information for me though.

“It’s quite experimental.” Lucas warned in an ominous tone.

“Obviously.”

“They usually only accept terminal patients… you know, because of the ethical issues.” He eyed me warily. “But in your case, they made an exception.”

He was adorable. He said that last line like a late night infomercial. Or maybe a used car salesman.

“This is not some elaborate black market scam to harvest my organs, is it?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, no offense, but you look like you could use a new heart.”

Lucas had to grab his oxygen mask after laughing so hard at that one. The nurse at the station gave me a dirty look.

After Lucas recovered he looked me in the eye. “How much do you have left?”

“Time? Or money?” I joked. The look on his face was not amused. I cleared my throat. “One month. And as you know, money is not an object.”

“Well, one month can give you… at least eighty years in virtual time. So pretty much a whole lifetime, if you decide on it.” Lucas shrugged. “Once you jack in though, there’s no going back. Your clock will end as scheduled and that’s the only way out. Also, it’s totally immersive, so you won’t even know you’re in virtual. It will be like… you’re in a dream but you don’t know you’re in a dream.”

“So I would really believe everything was real? Like I would grow up to be ninety years old and I would actually think I lived all those years even though really it will only be one month?”

“Mostly, yes.”

“How many of the other people will be real?”

“Most will be computer generated. You might meet some real ones, if they are in the same time dilation settings as you. There are very few people with the resources for a whole month, you know. Most people can only afford one day.”

“So there’s a chance that I will marry a program?” I furrowed my brows. “And then if we have kids, they will also be programs?”

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. “There’s a high chance, statistically. Like I said, there’s only a few real participants at any given time. Not that it would matter to you, you won’t know the difference.”

I thought about this. Would it really bother me if I didn’t know? I bet my computer generated kids would be adorable.

His expression suddenly turned serious. “There’s something else. It’s rare, but there are a few cases of people noticing little things not quite right and they become increasingly convinced they’re in a simulation. Which of course is true, but when you’re jacked in and you’re not completely sure if you’re crazy or just being paranoid, it can be terrifying. They call it Simulation Induced Paranoia, or SIP.” He paused. “Participants become really…. distressed.”

I chewed on this for a second. “I still want to do it.”

He looked surprised. “Really?”

“I really don’t have anything to lose.” I replied nonchalantly, like I just decided on a dinner entree. I should probably be alarmed that I was acting so cavalier. Lucas wasn’t exactly giving a stellar sales pitch. Then again, it was true, I really had nothing left to lose. I’ve done what I could with my twenty-two years. Might as well have another lifetime to try again.

Lucas stared at me for a moment then sighed. “That’s the thing. The longer you’re in virtual, the higher the chance you might experience SIP. Remember, Harper, a month is a lifetime. The chances are very low of course - less than 1%, the virtual worlds are very meticulously programmed after all. But if you experience SIP, there’s no cure, no safe word, you’re stuck until your clock runs out.”

“I already decided.” I said resolutely. Once I’ve made up my mind on something I was usually unshakable. It was one of my many flaws. “In fact, let’s do it tonight. I want to get my whole lifetime, not a year less.”

—

Everything was too bright, the sounds too loud. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t. Jacking in was a very jarring process, it felt as if all my neurons were firing up all at once. Somehow I felt tremendous pain and the heights of delirious ecstasy simultaneously. Like I was feeling every possible thing all at the same time. There was a terrifying moment when everything went black, and for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, I truly wholeheartedly believed I was actively dying.

Maybe I was supposed to die on the table during the procedure. Or maybe I really did unwittingly offer to have my organs harvested for the black market. Damn it, I probably caused my own death in my extreme efforts to avoid it...

I blinked twice. The room slowly came into focus.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” A familiar voice.

It was Lucas. But also, it was not Lucas. He did not have his portable oxygen tank close by. His lips did not have their usual bluish tint. He looked… healthy.

Everything came back to me at once.

“Oh shit, Lucas. That was nuts.” I shook my head, clearing the cobwebs. “That felt too real. I really felt like I was in there for twenty-two years.” I checked my watch. I’ve only been in Virtual for twenty-two minutes.

He chuckled, swiveling back and forth on the expensive office chair I bought him for Christmas last year. My boyfriend never could sit still. “You’re a champ, Harper, you were the one who wanted to push the time dilation to a year per minute. I was worried pushing it that far would compromise the world building, but your mind was amazing at meeting the program halfway to fill in the gaps. You made yourself a rich orphan, really? Money is no object? Hah!”

I disconnected my neurojack from the surgically implanted access port behind my right ear. That rich orphan stuff was my subconscious free at the wheel. I didn’t intentionally decide on it. I turned back to Lucas. “Why did you add all that stuff about Virtual in there, and SIP? Don’t you think that was a little too… meta?”

Lucas suddenly broke into that grin that melted my heart so many years ago when we met during undergrad at MIT. “Well, since you wanted to put the expiry dates into the program so people would know how much time they had left, I thought, what the heck, why not make it interesting? Why not make a virtual game in Virtual?”

I was not amused. Lucas had a penchant for bloated code and unnecessary side doors. Also, for not telling me about an adjustment until after he has done it. “That’s messed up. You should have run that by me. The expiry date was a suggestion from the beta testers and we all agreed on it. We didn’t agree on putting the game into the Virtual Universe as a side door..” I paused. “Also, what if I didn’t jack in? I would have died in a car accident or something?”

Lucas turned back to his computer and typed a few lines of code. “I had carbon monoxide poisoning ready to go, but I was prepared to improvise. And anyway, I didn’t actually think you would gravitate towards the game during the beta test, I just put it in there as an Easter egg of sorts. I figured most clients would only think about jacking in when they were close to their expiry dates, if they do at all. But on second thought, maybe I should take it out of the programming, it’s too much work to keep up.”

I jumped off the table and stretched my legs. My entire body felt stiff like I haven’t used it for months. “Yea, take it out. You’ll have enough work as it is when we start accepting our first commercial clients next week. We have four people scheduled on our first day which I already think is too much.”

“We’ll be fine.” Lucas was now typing more purposefully. “That reminds me, I need to finish debugging this before Monday. Do you mind picking up dinner?”

“Sure.. from that new Thai place again?”

“Sounds good.”

I smiled as I gave Lucas a quick peck on the cheek before I grabbed my purse to pick up the take out. Everything was going well for our start up. It was hard to believe that only two years ago Lucas and I were broke PhD dropouts who took a leap of faith building Virtual from our one bedroom Boston apartment. And now… well, let’s just say our first official month in business is projected to generate six figures in profits even after subtracting overhead. Mid six figures. And as soon as we open up our second and third facilities the growth would be exponential.

To top it all off, I was pretty sure Lucas was planning on proposing to me next week on my birthday. I saw a charge from some jewelry company on his credit card statement while I was doing some filing last month. Judging from the amount, it could only be an engagement ring. Lucas never would have spent that much on a piece of jewelry otherwise.

I sauntered out of the elevator from our high rise office with a pep in my step. The weather outside was just the right amount of sunny. Even the Boston air didn’t feel as suffocatingly polluted. Yes, everything was going well. Perfect, even. I eyed a meticulously trimmed bush suspiciously as I walked by. Maybe too perfect.

I felt a sudden stab of panic. The smile dissipated from my face.

Oh no.

The flowers in my mind are growing just fine.

Lots of minerals in the sands of time.

All these gardens I meticulously tended to are mine.

I have blood-red roses and sunburst yellow dandelions.

Welkin-blue hydrangeas in erratic lines.

Emerald-green chrysanthemums that shine.

Resplendency in the negative spaces,

endeavouring to conceal the tenebrosity in obscure places.

Call me a selfish gardener or a recollection farmer.

I water these gardens with tears of lost dreams.

I sing to the flowers with my mute screams.

but all my visitors will ever optically discern,

is my garden of unparalleled beauty.

Stuart Johns

Along the Atlantic, awful alligators sit aloof, anticipating the awakening of all anxious animals to alleviate an abundant appetite. The animal, arriving at autumn, approached an awful alligator awkwardly with an attack plan. The animal aroused the aloof and atrocious alligator and attracted his attention. All animals attuned their hearing at the arriving animal and an atrocious, and aloof alligator. The animal was being adventurously amazon at the amazed atrocious, awful alligator. In this area, the anxious animals are abundant.

The animal advances on to artistic apple artists and are acquainted with angles and amazing abstract art alliterations at autumn and arrive at AM. The abstract artistic apple artists attempt astronomy and are awed at aweing aliens, also attempting art. The alien art is atrocious, and amazing and abstract art. They ace art and can abracadabra aliens away. Abstract artistic apple artists also attempt amazing astronomy all after amping up apple art.

…

A ways away in Argentina, American Affenpinscher dogs are after American agents attacking Americans in Avalanches after falling ash. Agents are alarmed by American Affenpinscher dogs and are anxious and afraid. Avalanches alert arriving aspirational angels atop an astounding arch. Angels advance to avalanches and arouse appearing Americans ASAP. The affenpinschers alerted the angels to the angry American adults needing attention and assistance. Also at Argentina, Americans are artful artists at astronomical apples, advice and avalanches.

Also a ways away aching at an arrival of Anemone, an Anaconda awaits Anemone. Anacondas are also as atrocious and awful as atrocious awful alligators and are about to alleviate an Anemone at am. Anemone arrives and apprehended an attack. Anemone attacked at arrival. Atrociously awful Anacondas are alleviated. Anemones are advantageous and are amused at atrocious awful anacondas aren’t actually atrocious and awful.

Anemona and an animal are arriving at apple artists again and are acquainted around all, American affenpinschers are also arriving and are also acquainted. Anemona, an animal, And an american affenpinscher are alive and are amazing around anemona, an animal.

Anna arrives at Argentina and is aware of american agents and an awful avalanche. Anna arrives at apple artists and attacks Anemona, an animal, and an american affenpinschers attack also and are alleviated at Anna. Anna is as amazed as Anemona attacking atrocious awful. anaconda.

Anna’s Aunt Ava arrived to assist Anna and ate appealing avocados and awful artichokes. Aunt Ava attempted to avenge the animals and adventurous Avengers. Adventurous Avengers are avalanched alive at arrival at apple artists and Anna and Aunt Ava. Aunt Ava and Anna and Avengers are awakened by aardvark, Atrocious awful, Atrocious awful Alligator, and Anaconda. Aunt Ava and Anna, and Avengers, and Atrocious awful, and Atrocious awful Alligator, and an aardvark are arranging an attack also. Attacking artistic Apple artists and Aliens.

All are ashes after Aunt Ava and Anna, and Avengers, and Atrocious awful, and Atrocious awful Alligator, and an aardvark attack artistic apple artists and aliens. Aunt Ava appels at an arriving ash. Ash appels back. Ashes are arriving all around and Anna and Aunt Ava are arriving at Argentina again.

Advancing on American affenpinscher dogs, Ana and aunt Ava are American agents, attacking as well. Anna and Aunt Ava are autographed at an acknowledged association afterwards they are appropriately applying for an account at an achieving agricultural association.

An achieving agricultural association assemblyman arrives and aggravates Aunt Ava amazingly. Aunt Ava abominates an achieving agricultural association assemblyman, Aunt Ava appeases at an assembly for attacking an achieving agricultural association assemblyman. Aunt Ava is affirmed an anesthetic and Anna attacks Aunt Ava.

Anna accelerate as an accountable Anna and attracts an achieving agricultural association Ambassador. An achieving agricultural association ambassador absolutely appreciates Anna and adjusts Anna’s appearance and automobile. Anna admittedly attacked Aunt ava and an achieving agricultural association Ambassador admires Anna amazingly.

An achieving agricultural association Ambassador administers an aspirational antibiotic at Anna. Apocalypses are arriving and Anna and Ambassador are aspirational and afflict affectionate adventure at apocalypses.

An auctioneer arrives at argentina and Anna and Ambassador are arriving to attend at an auctioneer. Anna apprentices an auctioneer and are auctioneered. Anna accidentally applies as an astronomer also and abandoned an auctioneer apprenticeship. An Ambassador appraised Anna and applied as an astronomer also. Anna and Ambassador are astronomers at april.

Aunt Ava ambitiously attends April astronomers at april am. Aunt Ava amends an anesthetic Aunt Ava and advertises Anna And Ambassador and Astronomers. Aunt Ava Aviodes Anna anyways.

Astronomers accomplish an abstract agreement and Anna agrees. Anna authenticates an academic achievement and achieves an acquired audience. An achieving agricultural association, amazing, abstract artistic apple artists, and argentina agents all assemble and all agree. An achieving agricultural association, amazing, abstract artistic apple artists, and argentina agents, all applaud Anna. Aunt Ava’s ambition arrives and Anna, allergic avocados, attacks. Anna’s ambassador allows Anna an antidote. Aunt Ava attacks Anna’s ambassador. Ambassador are all ashes. Anna adveges Ambassador and attacks Aunt Ava also. Aunt Ava are ashes.

Angels allow Anna and Anna allows ashes. Ambassador awaits Anna. All ashes are agricultural and are almighty assured.

Anyways an arriving author allowed around ashes, artists an amazing, astonishing, abstract, awing, adapting, aspirational, astounding, awesome, affecting, ambiguous, amazon, angel, angle. Anna and ambassador are angels all around.

…

Anthropocentric archers arrows avail and archers arrows attack angels. Anna angel attacked at anthropocentric archers arrows. Anna abides anthropocentric archers and angel awashes airy aches. Afar anthropocentric archers arrive at air and Anna Angel annihilated. Angels are all annihilated. Anthropocentric archers’ arrows are absorbing angels and are accelerating. Anthropocentric archers aboveground affect abominations, and are attracting appealing angels as attacking.

…

Achieving agricultural associations, amazing, abstract apple artists, and american agents, are attacking an anthropocentric archers associations are antitakeover. Anthropocentric archers alternate and are achieving. Anthropocentric archers achieve. All are ashes as well, achieving agricultural associations, amazing, abstract artistic apple artists, and american agents, are all...are all...are all...are all ashes...ashes...ashes...ashes...ashes- anthropocentric archers are achievers. Achieving agricultural associations, amazing, abstract artistic apple artists, and american agents, Anna angels, Aunt Ava angles, Ambassador angels, atrocious Anaconda, anemona, atrocious awful alligators, american affenpinschers, advarks, avengers, aren’t achievers.

Anthropocentric achieving Archers are arriving all around, authenticating angels and attacking, acknowledging another anthropocentric achievers and attacking, and appreciating another anthropocentric achieving archer.

Acetophenetidin are amorphousness angels and amorphousness angels achieve at attacking anthropocentric archers at August at am at Argentina. Anthropocentric archers assemble and advise an attack. Attack anthropocentric archers and amorphousness angels are achieving. Achieving…Achieving…Achieving…Achieving…Achieving…Achieving… amorphous angels.

Angels appeared and approached again aboveground. Angels admirably assaulted anthropocentric archers adversaries all again. Angels ascended and arranged acceptance again, amongst all adventuring animals again. Angels are again accepted all around. All animals assumed angels are ashes, all animals are absurd.

Astonishing assault arrived All animals against all assorting absurd animals. Achieving agricultural associations, Anna and ambassador, amazing, abstract apple artists, angels, anemona, an animal, American Affenpinschers, art aliens, all against anthropocentric archers, atrocious awful alligators, atrocious awful anacondas, and american agents, an achieving agricultural association assemblyman, Aunt Ava and Aunt Ava’s apprentice appaloosa.

Actors act an astounding attack. Achieving agricultural associations, Anna and ambassador, amazing, abstract apple artists, angels, anemona, an animal, American Affenpinschers, art aliens, all against anthropocentric archers, atrocious awful alligators, atrocious awful anacondas, and american agents, an achieving agricultural association assemblyman, Aunt Ava and Aunt Ava’s apprentice appaloosa. Actors act achieving Achieving agricultural associations, Anna and ambassador, amazing, abstract apple artists, angels, anemona, an animal, American Affenpinschers, art aliens.

…

Anna asks an approaching animal for assistance locating American awful atrocious alligators assuming the animal wouldn’t answer. Anna and Aunt Ava are after an American awful atrocious alligator to research and alleviate the abundance of awful atrocious alligators already afloat in Atlantic waterways. The animal astounded Anna and Aunt Ava by answering abruptly.

The animal allowed Anna and Aunt Ava to follow along and astride it along the angry Atlantic. Anna and Aunt Ava are arriving at an abundance of awful atrocious alligators and are already about to alleviate abundant awful atrocious alligators. Awful atrocious alligators are attacking Aunt Ava, Anna, and an animal. Awful atrocious alligators aren’t awaiting ashes. Aunt Ava, Anna, and an animal are achieving. Aunt Ava, Anna, and an animal, are achievers. An abundance of awful atrocious alligators is less abundant. Aunt Ava, Anna, and an animal are astriding along the atlantic again.

At an afternoon hour in August, Aunt Ava, Anna, and an animal are arriving at an abundance of awful, atrocious, alligators again. An angry alligator attacked but Anna approached achievement by angling a trap and accepting an awful atrocious alligator, armored scale. Aunt Ava and Anna are still alive after the attempted awful atrocious alligator attack. Anna achieved an aim and an antibiotic for awful atrocious alligator attacks. An antibiotic was arranged for awful atrocious alligators with an aromatic aroma to deter and alarm alligators from attacking adults as well as adolescents and Anna and Aunt Ava. An abundant antidote mist will alleviate American alligator attacks all afternoon in August and April .

An animal allowed Aunt Ava and Anna to follow along and astrid. An animal attacks Aunt Ava and Anna as well. Aunt Ava and Anna also angle a trap for an animal. An animal’s ashes are adrift on air.

Aunt Ava and Anna arrive back at Argentina and are assessing and appraising an antidote with an aroma. An antidote to stop awful atrocious alligators attacking adults, as well as, adolescents and Aunt Ava and Anna. An Antidote ready for action. Adults, Aunt Ava and Anna, as well as Adolescents are alive and achievers. Anna and Aunt Ava achieve.

Aunt Ava and Anna are relaxing at an afternoon in Argentina and aren't assulted and aren't attacked and aren't active. Anna is bored and does amazing, astonishing, abstract, awing, adapting, aspirational, astounding, awesome, affecting, ambiguous, amazon, angel, art. Aunt Ava awakes and admonishes Anna for doing amazing, astonishing, abstract, awing, adapting, aspirational, astounding, awesome, affecting, ambiguous, amazon, angel, art. Aunt Ava ambels along, advacing at afternoon. All is well.

Aunt Ava and Anna are arriving at the end. Aunt Ava and Anna are achievers and ashes.

your words used to be sweet whispers

like fairytales or dreams

just sweet sweet syllables

of your warrior within.

it was like taming the beast,

touching the wild

no fear

only you and i.

it was your dream

it was your pursuit

it was in every single action

every word you spoke.

but was it just to get me

and now you don’t remember

how eloquently you once spoke.

do you have any idea

of how you made me feel

like the only thing you could even think of

was me.

i was your only.

you made me feel like a woman

when no one else had,

you talked to me like a queen

and made me feel like i was special,

but now i have to ask.

and when i do it’s i love you, yes,

what do you want me to say?

maybe all the things you did to get me here

how could you fucking forget.

it was your dream.

and how can you make me feel stupid for asking

it’s like it’s slipping further away.

i don’t know what to think

you’re always upset with me for my insecurities

yet your the one who said if you could

you would swallow my pain

well my pain is real

and so are my doubts

yet you act like i’m undeserving

whenever they come out.

so i’m sorry if i’m not your queen anymore

if i don’t deserve your pretty words anymore.

i’m fucking sorry.

swaying swans sing so softly,

soothing soft sounds slowly swelling,

seeming suddenly strident.

swans seldom stutter,

songs sweet, stable, so steady,

simply saying smooth sounds,

sending sweet songs slowly soaring.

sinking, surging, swaying,

sonorous songs sweep sooty sands,

smoothing serrated sections,

sending swirling sand segments skyward,

sand swiveling in superior cyclones,

swirling, so spectacularly,

songs switching, soon submerging,

sinking in soothing space,

significantly savage storms

stretching skyward slowly.

shore and sea sway,

sufficiently synchronized,

shifting societal standards,

sinking suggestive sentiment.

some saturnalien scum scream:

“swan’s singing is supernatural!”

such screams seem

standard sentiment for suffering swans,

singing segregated,

surgical supression,

sulfurous stigma,

seperatist sentiment,

systematic suffering

sans suffrage,

seeking some suffering like

sick, substandard scavengers

seeking stiffs to scarf.

such slanderous statements

soliciting self shame.

such slander seems swamping,

senior stigmas sticking still, ceaseless.

still, such substandard slander

shouldn’t seem so standard.

surely, someone should say “shame!

shame on such sour spoken sounds!

shame on sickening scum!

shame on such cynical syllables,

shame on such senile schemes!

such scandalous sentiments should scarcely see spoken!”

swans singing should seem special, sinless,

supreme in sound.

still, some stay silent.

silence seems stinkingly substandard,

slimy sewage straining such struggles.

sound seems sanctioned,

silence supremely saddening.

seeking success shouldn’t seem scandalous.

still, silence and slander stays strong.

such sentiment stains swan’s singing.

supernatural? surely senseless!

stupid semantics of superstitious stupidity.

swans sing sans spectral supplements!

spooky specters swiftly scamper,

scared of such supreme swan sounds.

spooks spooked by splendid splendor.

supernatural singing?

silly solution to senile stigmas!

swans scorn such spiritual silliness.

singing is simply spontaneous skill,

skill and some strong seasoning.

still, skepticism stays strong.

sans suspicion, swans sing still.

seeking some sadly screened support

for some splendid singing.

singing seems so shortening.

swan songs seem so superior.

swirling, sublime swan songs,

sacrificing sand for sky.

splendid sunsets streaking

smog suffused skies,

saturated stains;

saffron, scarlet,

seceding to shadowy sapphire,

sundown, song still sustaining,

sun and sunset’s sweet satellite spinning

seldom stop such sweet swans singing.

swans seldomly seem superstitious,

still, songs seem supernatural,

savages slinking in sluggish streams.

spiritual souls singing spirits into survival.

specters sway in sophisticated shapes,

spectral simulation,

schizophrenic supercomputer of spiraling skulls,

strange sounds of sightly sinful serpents.

since such sounds seem supernatural,

shouldn’t someone say swans singing is superior?

sage swans sing such strength saturated songs,

sending song scales spiraling skyward.

songs, scaling slippery slopes;

straddling stars in space,

stretching to star systems,

swimming in stacks of suns.

sitting in swells of singing swans,

sobbing songs of sugary sadness,

so soon, sorrow shifts to soothing sanctity,

sickness, soothed.

sadness, squashed.

suffering, scrubbed.

snow, seceded from summery skies.

songs surfacing from swanly speech.

striding stepping stones,

seeing sightly scenery.

songs sliding southwards,

slipping, somehow.

sonnets stirring streams,

sequestered swans singing

striding such senseless stockades.

spawning statuesque serenity in shivering streams,

seldom settling somewhere,

ceaslessly shaping some splendid space,

shaping, switching, shifting:

shifting solid stones.

sweet, saccharine songs,

standing strong,

staying stentorian,

strident sounds,

sliding sweetly

seeking spectators,

seeding sensitive saplings,

sprouting splendid stems,

seeking sweet sunlight.

sun shines ceaseless,

stalling for some sought space.

some secret section,

super secluded from such simultaneous spoilage.

simultaneously, swans sing,

seeking some sort of

settlement for such sinister suffering,

seeking some sort of sweet satisfaction,

sounds squeezing secluded souls,

someday shading cities,

shining seas and shaking structures,

seamstresses soon sewing

spectacular scenes.

songs sung somewhere

sad, sweet, suggestive.

songs swans started.

songs swans sung.

songs swans sowed.

still, swans shuttered,

slammed, scattered, sunk.

species said

“songs seem saturated in suggestive sin.”

still, some stole such strong swan songs,

stealing superb scales for selfish services.

snatching songs,

stealing spots,

swindling such sugar sweet singing.

so swans surrendered,

staring sadly skyward,

such sour savagery

solicits savage storms.

since shelter stolen, survival seems strenuous.

sad swans sunk southward,

snuggling with suffering,

sinking subterranean.

swans sang sirenlike,

spawning sordid superstitions.

shores where swans sat seemed shrouded in strangeness.

swans seldom cease singing,

still, swan’s strength seems strained.

sapped by superstitious stigma.

so such sweet, soft, struggling swans

stopped singing such splendid sounding songs.

such silence slowly suffocated said swans,

swans seemed striding to secede from sickening silence.

such supressed songsseeingly spawned self scorn,

swans strangling selves to supress sudden songs.

suicidal sadness, staining songs,

siring sinister scrutiny.

songs and swans surrender in sync, severing,

splintered segments spinning

shattered stars,

slumping scalps,

some suck satisfaction from straws.

some slice selves senseless.

some surrender, suicidal,

seeking solace in swaying strings,

survival’s strings snipped shamefully short.

some seek serenity in schizophrenic sources.

some still see serenity in such ceaseless suffering.

still, summation of such sad swans

smooch sorrow so severely

that such sickness seems ceaseless,

submerging sweet songs in still spreading sadness.

significant shadowed space,

sun stymied,

stars snuffed.

sinning spreading starkly,

silencing serene swans,

stifling silver sterling stars.

should swans still start songs?

or should silence stretch ceaseless?

song seems salient to such soundless suffering.

such senses seem safe.

still, suspicion, stigma

staying stuck in some spacey souls.

serenity slips, sinking subterranean.

sadness sways,

swallowing some spacious cities simply.

swans suffer, species swallow sorrow.

strangling on soundless sickness.

silence seems like sickness.

sagely, someone suggests

some supreme suggestion,

stupidly seeking

some sure solution:

since swans seemed secondary.

schooling seems significant.

some say swans swim subordinate;

suggesting stereotypical stupidity:

some species seem stunted,

societal straitjackets, strangling sweet singers,

scapegoating swans.

sometimes suspicion stays stuck.

such stigmas seem super strenuous to shake.

still, someone should stand;

seek the spunk to say:

“species sustain soul,

safeguard sentience,

spawn saccharine songs,

sabatoge solitary strays,

soon, subsidence stays sure.”

swimming swans, slithering snakes,

sewing silkworms, slimy salamanders

slippery salmon, strong scorpions,

stalker sharks, special seals

sprightly seahorses, stinky skunks, and slow sloths.

soaring sparrows, spinning spiders, scurrying squirrels and squirting squid,

sacred scarabs, squirming starfish, shrunken shrimp,

shriveled shrew, slimy slugs, shelled snails, silky servals,

stately stags and spirited storks.

each species seems salient and splendid.

even small sardines: significant.

such species seem small,

scarce, sporadic, strange, substandard.

such stigmas are slipshod.

so species still seem salient,

spurning such stale sentimentality.

swans seek survival,

subsistence, not superiority.

such selfishness is senseless.

such species spurn seeming sheeplike,

shunning shepherds.

species seek strength.

strength, scornless spans of survival.

seeking seen: strong, splendid, sweet.

some still searching sundry sands

so someone still stands satisfied.

sailing sun stained seas,

sapphire swells surging to sandy shores,

spawning sudsy cerulean surf.

sequestered shores, subtly shadowed.

sparkling sunbeams shuttered,

sending swans to sibylline shade,

searching stripped shores for sidelined silvery stashes,

sanguinely suppositions of safety and salvation.

swans searching, shepherding scheduled saints.

scavenging sandy shores,

and slothlike, shattering.

swans start slipping.

slowly, souls shrivel, semitransparent.

searching for supreme solidarity,

sidestepping serious storms.

surely, success sits somewhere,

secluded in shadowy shores.

success should be sought speedily.

strife seldom stops simply.

serenity seeking swans still sing,

starting songs supplementary.

suddenly, swan source surfaces,

striding stormy seas,

seeking spawn’s songs.

she searches for strayed sons.

she seeks to spark satisfaction.

swan’s source has seen suffering.

she seeks to soar skyward,

spurring swans to surmount sad situations.

seek sustenance!

swan source symbolizes success,

seeking strength in scary scrapes.

swan source saw small sons suckling from soft spheres,

seeking sweet solution.

she says, “seek survival!

seek satisfaction,

seek serenity,

satiate starved swan sanity!”

she shows swans skills,

students studying stateliness.

swans still sailed skyward,

so she shows swans supplementary sailing:

swimming salty sapphire seas.

such shining seas sequined with shining sunlight,

such sojourning seems sufficiently satisfying.

“spurn stereotypical status!” she says.

she starts shifting said status:

swans see what she sees.

swans surround system’s stop,

swamping sectarianism,

so simple, so sophisticated.

simply stunning, sublime,

stimulating, stirring sleeping soldiers,

spurring salient strides,

striding sagely,

surpassing senseless slights,

supressing stalemate,

smothering such senseless slander,

sailing sinking ships to shore.

struggling swans swung swirling shouts,

scouring shores, ceasing strife.

such splendid savagery,

so sour shifted sweet,

swan source scored success.

she significantly shifted such sights.

so stigmatized scorn shifted to celebrated.

scratch shabby slants,

substitute sincere sentiments.

surround, subdue senseless slander,

swans sing still,

swearing no cessation,

stubbornly securing ceaseless support.

standing still, strong,

smashed scizzors still slice separated;

suddenly shining swordlike.

sprouting sudden splendid shoots,

swans seem suddenly successful.

still, swans seldomly succeed stopping seiges solo,

so swan’s serendipity strays.

still, swans search.

seeking sweeping songs,

swelling stations,

successfully suprising.

suitability supercedes sameness,

surely, shouldn’t stay synonymized.

such stories solicit sincerity,

supposing stories sit secure,

solemn, stirring,

superposing sciolism.

slashing superficial standards.

swan songs stain sciolistic spirits,

supporting schooling simpletons,

scattering scorn.

simple strains spawn sophisticated speculation,

soul symposium,

sole soprano singing sonorous,

strong swan singers synchronizing.

some struggle to strangle such sounds,

souring such sweet swan style.

still, sighing swans stop scarcely,

songs soaring skyward,

sky sketched silver,

smog, spinning string,

shaping sheepskin shrouds.

suffering seemingly spawns

some super special songs,

sending such supremely splendid signals.

songs start seeming like sheets of spectacular sky

stretching stately,

surrounding swans,

skin of soft support,

suspending swans in stunning stillness.

still, shouldn’t stop.

still, ceaselessly strutting,

seldom setting selves south of success.

swaying, synergized song.

synchronized, spiritual, shatterproof song.

spectacular, significant, substantial song.

so suspend scaredness,

swans shouldn’t stop singing.

still, songs sustain significant significance.

such style, such symmetry,

shouldn’t stop,

shouldn’t stay still.

so swan songs seldomly suspend.

sustaining seems salient.

ceasing soon? surely silly!

swans should scarsely stall!

surely, such superior singing stays.

slackening, strengthening,

simply swaying,

subsisting silently,

suggesting simple songs,

still, striving for sophisticated sounds.

ceaseless sound,

stopping seldom,

subsisting in seemingly silent states,

staying sonorous in shining stars.

swans started sweeping sojourns,

searching for some same strategy

as similar successful species.

swan songs steered

such stigmatized species

somewhere super special.

swans seem so special someday starting soon.

such sentiment should stay.

such sentiment should have stuck from start.

still, swans strove to swim skyward, socially,

seeking society’s summit.

such struggle seems so serviceable.

stop settling for supression.

stop silencing spectacular sounds.

celebrate surpassing societal summits

swans should serve as similes

for societal supression.

schooling is super superior,

spawning sensible solutions,

stirring students to seek some

substantial shifts in sectionalist sentiments.

seems sensible that some stuck in similar situations,

such sad species seeking some support,

should study swan’s successes,

striving to simulate shangri-la’s smooth skies.

remember I once said that I can feel, sense and perceive about individuals; pick up their good and bad vibes, even from a brief interaction? and, of course, I always beware or walk away fast whenever I feel something about them is off. I hate to admit that I never wrong about this one.

•

now, you see? he traps you in his web of lies. he screams his self-justification at the top of his lungs, but it’s your silence that screams louder.

•

you see? he always tries to make you think what he wants you to think. he doesn’t love you. he only loves the reflection of himself in you.

when you stop being what he expects you to be, he explodes to create emotional debt.

when you stop seeing what he wants you to see and start analysing the situation, he guilt trips you. it’s that simple.

•

he always tells you how to react, what to say and what not to say, you ask him many questions and question his intention in your head, and now you’re the one who is deemed irrational. you can never be the voice of reason to rewire his brain. he thinks he can control your bloody mind and attitude....can you fucking see?

•

you could feel something would happen between him and her long before you learnt his empty love confession to her.

he’s the one who denies, but the truth speaks differently.

he’s the one who breaks the mirror, then wonders why everything doesn’t look the same anymore.

he’s the one who stabs you in the back,

then blames you for hurting him.

•

it’s never about you. it’s always all about him. his love is cheap and based around lies. still, he wonders why you change and thinks you know nothing.

•

he shows his true colour

while my colour fades

and you’re not his only one.

•

you think he takes your breath away but you are simply suffocating from his bullshits

... and I’m not the only one.

— Mapping Satanic Circle And The Origin Of My Evil

https://youtu.be/nbiWNAbB-y0

Pic: ©Laura Makabresku

Chess was a game that went unlearned.

Queens, and kings, and moves made in boxes.

Choices to be made and decisions to decide

by fingers that only have muscle memory

of trembling.

Any move I make is entirely wrong,

and the ones I make with my mouth

are that much worse.

Corners become my coroners and I am trapped —

advance, retreat, advance.

Your quick-wit is my better

and my emotions weigh heavy,

and all my strained eyes see

are losses stained in venom and blood.

There is no winning here

and my pride can’t taste defeat.

We play catch-release,

but I don’t remember how to say the word:

release.

This battle won’t end

until I give in

and swords are thrown,

and the chess board shatters

onto the floor.