Trying to find a voice, that would perhaps floor anyone who reads me. I wish I had a complex head. Which could spurt surreal. I try to imagine, but all that this mind conjures is what they call ‘cliched’. 

Where do I fit? A bit too much at times. At times so less that I fade away without a hint. For moments I’ll be the violet and the indigo and then I’ll turn grey.

Easy I am? I don’t want to be. I want to be incomprehensible, the vague, the juxtaposed. A puzzle. Let me be a dark poetry. One with lot of twisted images, grotesqueness. I’d rather be that than be beautiful. I want to be loved too. Loved because I am exquisitely ugly. Touch of my withered skin would bring them joy. Their pleasure be my cries. Their elixir be my blood.

Living in a form like that of a shapeless dark shadow, I want to be that for whom the sound of nails scratching on the surface of slate be music. My wails be their songs. My pain, my ache  be their source of mirthful bellows of laughter.

What a pretty ugly picture! One that makes your nerves cringe, one that makes the blood in your veins freeze. A picture with grey, chapped lips. A picture with a dark scarred face. A beauty of its own. I want to be that.

I want to be that and be loved.

3 thoughts on “…and to be loved.

  1. are you trying to contradict the cliched 'beauty in simplicity'?
    I recommend you to write some dark literature, a grim scary one especially a never ending tome, a huge novel. may then you will get exhausted of this feeling and create something as a bonus. 🙂


  2. It is not human, you see, for someone to love something ugly.. It's a godly characteristic. And that's what we all wait for. Someone godlike, angel-like to love us, take us for whoeever we are.. the ugly, the good, the bad..

    This is such an intriguing post, and it hurts me where it shouldn't!

    You are such an effortless writer, love.. keep them coming! 🙂


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