Time-travelling Tuesday

A few more monsters from old notebooks...

 

The Worst in the World.

     I don’t think I ever told you what it meant, the eyes across the half-lit room.  Not what you thought, not what I let it mean.  For I am the worst in the world.

     Names exchanged and trust hard-won, and a joy in madness’ grasp.  You pinned me down, held me up, taught me the art of a bewildered smile. This must be what it is, this must be what fables tell of, and “forever” was fleetingly there.  But somehow, no matter what expertise you employed, I remained stoic, in control of what I was.  You were not what I needed to fly free.  For I am the worst in the world.

     Plans were made, and new bonds formed.  I was in a new state with you, revolving in your spheres and tethered to your orbit.  I forgot what I wanted and I focused on what you needed and that seemed to be a bright, brilliant purpose.  But once someone else cast a shadow over the house I had built, I saw the cracks in the funhouse mirror, the flickering of the lightbulb, and I realised with a crash and a stab and an oh god no that I wasn’t actually as happy as I had assumed myself to be.

So I spoke the words.

Silence.

One breath, two.

And then you cried.

I had bought a giant to his knees.

For I am the worst in the world.

Want.

I just remembered that this exists...and now I want a  fancy loopy thingummy (and someone to operate while I play)  so that I can play Joanna Newsom covers on my viola too...   

(On which note, I also just found out that Newsom and Andy Samberg are a thing...mind = blown. In a good way)

Curse you procrastination!