I'm Talking to You

Phoebe Mamaloukas

• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781398404809
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Poesía

Darkness. The wildest time of the day. A time that floats between the warm colours of the sunset and the deadly silence of the night, when there is no sun nor moon and the red eyes of Lucifer are the only objects dominating the blackness. The city is calm, not asleep; such monstrosities never silence their growls. And you too are now consumed by the frenzy of the fast-approaching night. Your thoughts are swirling in your mind because now you have finally stopped talking and you can hear them more clearly than ever.I know. I understand.Let's contemplate then. Let's allow the thoughts to perform their seductive dance, and let's submit together to the darkness.

Chapter 1
Sparks

Love’s that brief moment

Between lightning and thunder

When seconds are years

Rain is not God’s tears

It’s the despair of angels

God was never real

The sun is ripe now

Light falls stale and dark on me

It’s been cold since you.

Heaven and Hell live

In the hearts of the faithful

And those of the brave

Where we differ is

That my words reach your brain but

Your eyes reach my heart

Emptiness is strength.

The alternative is grief

For times that have passed.

Chapter 2
The Heart

A Process

Love.

Feel.

Burn.

Blind.

Stumble.

Fall.

Needle.

Heart.

Pierce.

Bleed.

Die.

No.

Not die.

Hurt.

Pray to die.

Hurt.

Hurt.

Pray harder.

Hurt.

Hurt.

Hurt.

Hurt.

Not die.

Untitled I (Juxtaposition)

The tale of the dragon is really about her. Her, who if she breathed on me I would dissolve to ashes.

She is brought to me by the breeze of Morpheus, I know every freckle on her body, so meticulously positioned to draw the map of my life on her back.

Sometimes she lets me touch her, but I couldn’t allow this to myself. I am preserving the fantasy of the sensation for as long as I can before I decide there’s nothing else to live for. And the day that this touch will be my only purpose is lurking.

Arms wrapped around me.

She’s hugging me.

She knows.

She feels the beating.

She doesn’t move, maybe she meant it to beat that way.

Throbbing, stop, don’t beat.

She knows, now you’ve ruined it.

I cut my chest open, take it out, stomp upon it. Good, it’s dead now, it won’t bother us again. Please don’t leave, I’ve stopped it, I swear.

-It keeps beating -

But I crashed it, I smashed it like a rotten fish. It’s stinky now and gross and oozing stale blood. Please come back…

I have nothing now…

Nothing else to give you.

I can’t feel

You took my heart

My precious heart

My rotten stinky heart

Now I have nothing left to give you.

The rose

I am the rose.

I was born in a meadow, wild, I never needed anything but the breeze.

My color charming yet horrific.

Charming because when you placed my petals on her lips you couldn't see the difference.

Horrific because I reminded her of her deepest fears.

You said to them that you liked me most because I reminded you of her.

She was small and delicate, yet gripping and wild.

I willingly came with you, thrilled to meet my other half, thrilled to have a say in the rhythm her heart would beat at.

I wanted to tell her to dance with you,

After all you'd been so nice to me, the small and delicate rose.

But she was more to you than a rose, wasn't she?

She was a dandelion when she let her hair down,

A tulip when she closed her eyes.

When she held me I knew exactly what you saw in her, her hands and yours had matching auras.

I wasn't even mad that you didn't try to protect me when you heard the first shots.

I could tell she was more important, you were looking at her in a way that showed emotions that were deeper than any flower could ever understand, that not even the bees and caterpillars in the meadow could ever feel.

You should have shielded her better.

I felt the drops hit me. I moved in the wind, sent to you one petal after the other.

I was trying to tell you that it didn't matter any more

I wanted to tell you to get up, you didn't have to take any more bullets for her now that your shield had already been broken.

You didn't see it immediately.

I don't blame you.

My color is charming and horrific after all.

You couldn't tell the difference.

I'm sorry that I couldn't fulfill my purpose afterwards.

I kept whispering to her that she should stand up and dance.

But she couldn't anymore.

And I kept trying even though I knew that, but to no use.

But you have to admit that it's the fault of the both of us.

You should have shielded her better.

~ ~

June 12^th, 2016, 2:09 am: “Everyone get out of pulse and keep running”

Untitled II (Lust)

In the midst of the frenzy and the blurry laughter and suffocation, I noticed with the corner of my eye a man sitting on the other end of the sofa. When I say noticed, I mean it in the sense that the w...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• About the Author
• Copyright Information ©
• Preface
• Chapter 1 Sparks
• Chapter 2 The Heart
• Chapter 3 The Brain
• Chapter 4 Fear
• Chapter 5 Ρίζες – Roots
• Chapter 6 Boring Writing