First Romantic Burst out

May 12, 2017 12:44 pm Published by

Male Dancer
One day they surrounded us and put us in a cage, hitting us on our heads and knees in turn. The men could stand it more, the women less so — they complained and cried at the slightest hit. We couldn’t tell if we were headed north or south. When we arrived, they gave us chicken to eat, and fruit. We ate, and afterwards they showed us to our rooms. The rooms were neither too dirty, nor too small. We thought the conditions would be worse, but we were wrong. For days, almost none of the guards laid a finger on us. But when they caught one of us trying to escape, that’s when things got brutal. They made us all love people who didn’t love us back. They forced us to love people who didn’t want us. We’d tell them how much we loved them and they wouldn’t say a word. We took them flowers but they didn’t appreciate it at all. We kissed their hands and gave them gifts and they’d just stand there – motionless, expressionless- and then they laughed loudly, almost sarcastically in our miserable faces. It was so awful that within a few days, out of a group of twenty people, only two of us remained. The rest died from desperation and sadness, slashing their wrists with their teeth, tearing out their throats with their nails, diving head first from tall trees. I don’t know how the two of us managed to get out of there. Anyway. The songs we write are sad songs and we sing them sweetly without the accompaniment of musical instruments. One of these songs is this one here.

Smoke often rises from our eyes
And our teeth are like hot stones
Our skin is soft and easily torn
And our hair is always combed
Mountains shake when we sob
Our tears form lakes and streams
Overflowing with sperm and spit and water
And our parents, inconsolable, pity us
Our bodies are impossibly thin
But were we to fall down, no-one could pick us up
Our hands and feet become unliftably heavy
Spleens of stone and livers of steel
Inside our mouths hawks sing
In our bellies lie gentle babes and rocks
Pine branches float and big dogs swim
In wine and beer and milk
Nothing better than us exists, nothing purer
We are the world, the moon and the stars
It’s not fair, not even right
That they fear us, or call us fearful

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This post was written by sherlockth