My Cursed Kingdom
This is my kingdom, i am the slave.

Archive for the ‘fiction’ Category

Dig the durt, if you must.

June 7, 2013

Don’t dig your buried treasures out; you never know what you might find. Unless you’re ready to face what you will see. But if you must, then you must. Pick up the shovel, shove its head into the dirt with all the force in your arms, and then use the strength of your tired legs […]

Hurtful sounds of melodic trumpets

August 17, 2012

A cigarette in your hand. I know it’s been long since you smoked one. Snugged between two fingers like you just took a drag, and then got distracted by something. Or someone. A dry leaf in the other hand; autumn it seems. Although it doesn’t seem like its cold otherwise, I don’t see a jacket. […]

Dream of dreams

May 5, 2012

I dream of lost days I dream of mending my ways I dream of you standing on a mountain I dream of dreaming of souls full of wishes   You dream of an open cage You dream of anger and rage You dream of soaring high beyond reach You dream of dreaming for that one […]

Gangrenous thoughts

April 5, 2012

You are my cancer. You are my disease. You are a gangrenous leg, that is rotting and falling off, piece by piece. But not falling off fast enough. The gangrene is crawling up slowly but surely. It wants to take over me. You are an injured limb, an injured limb I don’t have the courage […]

All is violent, All is bright

March 2, 2012

I paint your name on my wall. I watch the paint drip down till the ground. It messes up my wallpaper. I just stand and stare at it. The tiny drops rolling down the wall, racing against each other to reach the floor. I stand there and stare like a fool. I tear the wallpaper […]

Dream hate hand love

February 16, 2012

I dreamt of you. I hate you. You held my hand. I love you.

Hands of Silk

February 7, 2012

I sat at my desk and wrote. Under my lamp that shone dusty light on my single piece of paper. All I could see was the paper, the pencil racing furiously from one end to the other and a hundred shadows dancing around in the room. I was alone. No one was there to bother […]

il rumore del fiore di carta

September 19, 2011

From the chatter of the kids I hear the bugle playing. A xylophone assists the sadness. It’s almost like they’re soul mates. The nylon strings of a guitar join in. The bugle seems to feel the change. It makes me feel the change. They are all in sync. In rhythm. It’s an equilibrium. The bugle […]

In you I find my Autumn

September 5, 2011

Winters remind me of the time I used to sit on the bench in the park. The cold wind was bothersome enough to make anyone uneasy, but I remember covering myself nicely and comfortably in my leather jacket; a scarf around my neck and a beanie over my head. My feet would still feel cold. […]

Doors

September 5, 2011

After you shut the door, don’t look back. Don’t be startled by the loud bang. Don’t even think about turning the handle to see if the door would still budge. Leave it be. Don’t pay attention to the light creeping through from under the door. Don’t be distracted by the weaning and waving of the […]