Red Tide-Part 3
By: Willawillakola
I
Sometimes I choke on my own tears. Just when I think I have drowned in the paradise of sadness, joy bubbles near the surface. But how can bubbles form on stale waters?
II
I am running so fast my lungs burn with the of lack air, tears are clouding my vision. I need to run faster, please, just a step up into the space. I am wingless. You have seen how broken I am. You know how ugly. I am cold. Can hug my skull up there where all my hair has fallen out? Please, Please, Please…
III
Outside the noises are so ugly. People hurt me so much with their mindless shouts and burps. They stay inside my head for hours till I gag in front of the toilet so many times I cough up blood. But nothing spills out of me. From my feet up to my chest is full of vomit and I can't do anything to throw up.
IV
I am sitting naked and aroused in the middle of my bed-sheets smudged with the acute need to love. I do this every night because I can't sleep. I fill myself with my imaginary lover. He is faceless; he never talks to me. He is all arms and kisses. I knock on his chest just to see if there is a soul inside. He turns over and kisses me for real this time, drinking the crushed rose petals from my lips.
V
When I was little I used to have rows and rows of violins and violas hung from a string in the attic. I wish I knew how many of them I smashed. I kept smashing more and more each day. Broken wood would fly off like shards or petals of a tulip disintegrating. The jagged pieces could always carve poetry on the walls.
VI
Violet, magenta, orange and gold waves ride on top of each other. Clashing together they form a luminescent grey, that's why I almost don't see it. Shiny as crystal lace frost sewn together by snowflakes. I gently finger the skeleton of a glass sponge. It lays nestled against my chest like a mutated goddess. It has died of asphyxiation in the red tide. The sea is a long cradle of rainbow waves luminescent and twisted, rocking thousands of dead algae. The stench of rotting flesh is making me gag again. I should get out before the toxin makes its way through my skin. I have saved Venus's flower basket.