Status: Active.
Colours of Insanity
Was The Sweetest
The taste of the sea sits on my tongue, rough and salty with memories of long trips as a child. The water splashes in my mouth and the seashells ring in my ears, I am not at the beach I am simply high.
“Promise you’ll never forget me” I murmur to the lounge room I am laying in, the room is a kaleidoscope of colours, each dancing on the orbs of my eyes and inviting me to touch them, they look so real. Hair tickles my nose and I blow it away.
The ground feels softer than a thousand grains of sand, but it does not fall through my fingers. I can hear the ocean and I can smell it, that sweet smell of happiness and sand mixed with salty water, it burns my nostrils and I close my eyes letting the smell encompass me.
“Never” He replies easily,
“It doesn’t count if you don’t promise” I mutter quietly, the water tastes like tears, I realise slowly I am crying. The lapping waves are nothing more than the tendrils/trails of tears falling softly from my eyes and collecting at the corners of my mouth.
He doesn’t tell me I am being childish, he simply mutters a promise and I wipe my tears. The white pills I had taken are making my head spin, I sit up and try to catch the dancing lights, they appear from nowhere and disappear just the same.
I catch one, it has landed on her body. I stare at my mother and wait for the light to dance again, it goes out. How poetic, my mother’s light has finally gone out.
“You’re not sorry are you?” He asks in his deep voice, it spins around my body entering my chest through my ribs and planting itself firmly within me.
I stare at the bullet hole in my mother’s head my eyes glazing over, I lean down and press a salty sea of kisses around her wound, it tastes rustic, like a coin. When I was five I would always get in trouble for swallowing change, maybe that is why the taste is so comforting.
Before we leave I place a lily on my mother, her large frame turning a pale white, I kiss her goodbye and follow him. That was how it all started, with a bullet to my Mothers temple. They found her three days later but we were already long gone, like Bonnie and Clyde, Mick and Mallory we were young, in love and on the run.
Later at night under the stream of moonlight and a cheap hotel roof I pondered how to get back to normalcy, after committing an act so condemned and feared how did we return to what we were. The answer was simple – we don’t. We move forward, so that’s what we did, through seven states we moved forward leaving a trail of murder in our wake.
“Promise you’ll never forget me” I murmur to the lounge room I am laying in, the room is a kaleidoscope of colours, each dancing on the orbs of my eyes and inviting me to touch them, they look so real. Hair tickles my nose and I blow it away.
The ground feels softer than a thousand grains of sand, but it does not fall through my fingers. I can hear the ocean and I can smell it, that sweet smell of happiness and sand mixed with salty water, it burns my nostrils and I close my eyes letting the smell encompass me.
“Never” He replies easily,
“It doesn’t count if you don’t promise” I mutter quietly, the water tastes like tears, I realise slowly I am crying. The lapping waves are nothing more than the tendrils/trails of tears falling softly from my eyes and collecting at the corners of my mouth.
He doesn’t tell me I am being childish, he simply mutters a promise and I wipe my tears. The white pills I had taken are making my head spin, I sit up and try to catch the dancing lights, they appear from nowhere and disappear just the same.
I catch one, it has landed on her body. I stare at my mother and wait for the light to dance again, it goes out. How poetic, my mother’s light has finally gone out.
“You’re not sorry are you?” He asks in his deep voice, it spins around my body entering my chest through my ribs and planting itself firmly within me.
I stare at the bullet hole in my mother’s head my eyes glazing over, I lean down and press a salty sea of kisses around her wound, it tastes rustic, like a coin. When I was five I would always get in trouble for swallowing change, maybe that is why the taste is so comforting.
Before we leave I place a lily on my mother, her large frame turning a pale white, I kiss her goodbye and follow him. That was how it all started, with a bullet to my Mothers temple. They found her three days later but we were already long gone, like Bonnie and Clyde, Mick and Mallory we were young, in love and on the run.
Later at night under the stream of moonlight and a cheap hotel roof I pondered how to get back to normalcy, after committing an act so condemned and feared how did we return to what we were. The answer was simple – we don’t. We move forward, so that’s what we did, through seven states we moved forward leaving a trail of murder in our wake.