Skyllas
we sit it in our deep grotto, queen of the land
in our cool shadowed hall of moist and gleaming stone
never apart and yet always alone
six heads six minds and seven names
nightmare of men Skylla are we
we are their monster who consumes their flesh.
Let their dark blood run down our throats
It is our right and our duty
Our responsibility
our obligation
our task
our function
still, I feel unfulfilled here in the dark
full of despair in this friendless realm
all by myself, ourselves, ourself.
Oh such nice little morsels they send us from the outside, and in those adorable little packages with their prim little sails. Oh it's so nice to see the detail they put into them with the wood-stuff and the cloth-stuff and the rope-stuff. Clever little beasts those Huuminses, a bit less so then the dolphins but they could probably outwit the fishies. Lovely little lunchboxes they put them in, so adorable. (-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)And those Huuminses tasty creatures, not very filling though. They're so plain too the poor dears not nearly so well endowed as we are, no. Poor things with only one head each, necks so stubby they can barely bend, and such stiff little limbs they can only twist here and there. Hmmm I ought to dissect one sometime see how all the bits fit together… they just wiggle on the teeth in the most delightful way though… hard to wait. I ought to send a thank you card for them… we don't get out much nowadays, don't even visit Kharybdis poor dear, she must have the worst bowels; just when she gets a little something down up it goes again…
We're alone, by myself, the others are here
but that's not the same because the others are me,
and they don't love us, not the way I love them.
I'm alone.
They are in their own heads and I can't see what they are thinking.
I wish I could because then I'd be them and they'd be me—
but then I'd still be alone,
just me in this cave in spite of everything.
They are Other, even if they are the same
I wish for someone else to come so I'm not alone
or maybe so we're not with them—the other "me"s.
I hate us, nobody cares like I do,
I haven't talked to us in 1503 nights
I wish we'd say something to me
but noone cares. Noonenoonenoone.
I want to see Kharybdis we've never seen her,
some of us think we have,
that we've just not stopped by for tea for a while
but were delusional because I know we haven't.
I wish someone would come and stay,
I want a friend too play with me.
maybe Kharybdis, Kharybdis could whisk me away
I'd be alone then, and I wouldn't be lonely anymore
Someone else would be there, who wasn't me at all.
I stare out the cave forever and forever it is me who sees the ships
One comes now and the tinies swarm across it's back
I want to embrace the tinies's knees and beg them please to take me away
I want to love the tinies and go away with them
I dream of tinies and my face fills with it and the others see
though I try to hide my fantasies they know
they are too smart for me sometimes
then we have to go, come up to the ship and the tinies aren't there anymore
they vanish and there are mens there.
mens are food.
We eat the mens.
but we keep mine to myself, so the others don't see, that's who I talk to
till all the man flesh is gone and there are just bones because the rest is rot
and it's dead.
And all the mens are gone and the tinies are runned away.
I'm alone again.
I am the great Skylla A fabulous fiend of striking beauty unsurpassed by any creature yet created by the gods, and even by the gods themselves dim truncheons with their noses in the air and can't see as far I'd wager. Idiot gods, they wander about meddling in mortal affairs while I am here in my own domain to deal quick death to any fool who trespasses. Ships passing through must pay their toll in men, if they fart around then they must pay their toll again. I am a business women as well as a regal and grandiose Queen. Cower at my greatness, fall at my figurative knees. And grovel, beg for the mercy you shall not receive.
Safety in the night, freedom from sight
Darkness and silence nocturnal sanctuary
Here I see whatever I desire
free from the visions of the day
I can not see myself nor us
nothingness full of potential
night's void
capacious room for fantasy
restriction-less all can exist
I can be whomever I want and not be me
Then Dawn's pale and bloodied hands grope at the dark.
Tear at the fragile robes of night
Accursed radiance drowns darkness in light
And slowly steals the shadows from my eyes.
Till I am naked in illumination
Trapped with reality, protection gone
And I cry inwardly and see
That I'm still us and we alas are me.
My luscious dreams all shrivel under Helios' light
Hi. Um.. hi… I'm .. I'm Skylla and uhh.. I like bunnies. ..Bunny Rabbits. There are some that I've see … like… like once .. when we weren't looking I saw one near the cave it was really really cute. And it twitched it's pink li'le nose. Um.. and it had this aboslutlely-thouchably-adorabalabley soft fur. It was all short –um the fur—and this rich brown with little bits of reddish and grayish color all mixed in all Homogenously. It was so so adorable I just wanted to hug it and love it forever. And it nibbled on this little bit of grassyness nearish the cave. It had such delicate little paws and and and then I I just moved my head the teeniest bit closer so I could see better and it's velvety little ears perked straight up and turned and it looked around. And then It saw me and it gave this little start it turned so fast It was amazing and it ran reallyreally fast and it ran it's soft warm little self right away into the tall grasses a few yards off so that even it's little fluff tail disappeared. And that was really sad I was so lonely. I'm scary, that's why it ran away—cuz I'm a MONSTER. I wish I weren't because beacus then maybe it would still be here or maybe it'd just stay a little tiny bit longer there, near us. I wish we weren't a monster because then, if we weren't a monster I wouldn't a monster I wouldn't have it horrible little Icky feeling in the pit of my stomach and on the edges on my tongue and I wouldn't have this little part of us in the back of my head that whispers that it wants to eat the sweet little bunny. This evil little thought that It wants to kill the little kritter that I reallyreallyreally like so much it wants to kill it and eat it and make me eat it too and it wants to feel the blood of it on it's tongue. I want to cry when I think that we're like that, and at what the others might do if we saw the poor bunny again, not just me. but still I wish and wish in my hearts of hearts that it would come back and be my furry little bunny friend and let me pet it's silky fluffy fur. But then I smack myself as hard as I can because that's stupid. Because what might we do! We might eat it! And I might want it to come back because I want to taste it and I hate that, I want it to stay away so that wont happen I don't want to be a bad monster. I don't want to be a monster at all. Um… umm and then er.. I hate us a little for that. But that's sortof bad of me too. Maybe I just wish we weren't me I that I was someone else other then Skylla—that wasn't a monster or something. Sometimes I wish I was a bunny. That'd be the greatestest. But then I might want to eat me.
