Sweet Sorrow

25 May, 2009 at 23:34 (Uncategorized)

It was surprising how long it must have taken her to wake up considering how much it hurt. Or then again, perhaps it was more surprising that she woke up at all considering the blood loss…although perhaps there hadn’t been that much at first. It was a little difficult to consider because try as she might to block it out the pain would not be forgotten.

It was the inevitable end to their relationship, it was the end they’d even admitted was going to happen though he had had to be drunk to actually discuss it with her. She hadn’t been though, and he’d known that. She thought he’d appreciated it even, that she had meant every word.

She’d woken up with the pain all down her right thigh, that’s where he’d started. She hadn’t understood at first, just woken up with the agonising, warm, bloody pain. She slept on her front and she could see the moonlight flooding in from the slightly ajar curtain to the wall at the head of the bed. It was the moonlight that made her realise what was happening, that and the sounds. They were slightly growly, visceral sounds mixed in with slurps and tearing noises, they sounded wet and sticky at the same time, and when they mixed with sudden sharp stabs to her leg and the tearing sound seemed to coincide with the tearing pain that was when she realised he’d come home early. He was in her bed on the last night of a full moon. She could feel the bloody emptiness down her thigh and she cried out as he took another bite. She half wondered if she could stop him, if she wasn’t too far gone…and she dismissed the thought, she could feel the damp stickiness which she knew to be her own blood spreading across the sheet beneath her.

Ok then, she thought, this is it…and the brief thoughts of fighting ended. She forced herself, as the pain subsided to a dull and bloody agony, to push up on her hands and turn her head. He was there, she knew he was, but seeing him made a difference, it made her more determined to continue. He was bent over her, his shaggy head engaged in chewing up some part of her flesh, his muzzle bloodied and dripping. As she turned and her breathing calmed he looked up, his ice-blue eyes meeting with hers. It was strange to see him like this, the one thing he had been modest about throughout their relationship, honest but reluctant to have her see him when he ‘wasn’t himself’. He did look different, of course he did, his whole face shape had changed, and of course the white and black hair of a wolf covered the baby-smooth skin she was used to. The eyes though, the eyes were his, icy and cold in colour whereas the blue she was used to seeing had a warmth to it, but the expression, the knowledge, that was him, that was his. Almost as she thought this it was as if they changed right in front of her. There was an expression other than hunger and then the warmth flowed in from the very edges of the irises, from the slightly darker circle around the iris, she was sure it had a name, towards the pupil and filled up like a sea, a sea of warm human love…and then sadness. She then noticed that the rest of him had changed too, not completely, he never could those nights of a full moon, and she’d seen him like this before, not exactly half and half, but heavier set than he was ordinarily, and hairier too…Tonight his mouth, the whole area of his chin dripped with blood and gory strands of flesh, her flesh, hung from his teeth.

His mouth hung open now, his eyes showed horror, shock, and now she could see tears welling up.

“Don’t.” she said.
“I didn’t…”
“Shhh. We talked about this.”
He nodded, slowly.
“I have to do this…you’re too…” he licked his lips, flecks of her blood tasted on his tongue. “sweet.”
She nodded back at him. He reached around and rolled her onto her back.

He stroked her hair.
“I love you.”

Then, it was a paw on her forehead as he lunged across to tear at her other leg. She cut off a scream by biting down hard against her hand and started to sob silently as she watched him rend at her flesh. He seemed to have taken most of her leg and she had tears streamed across her face when he took hold of himself again.
There was more of himself as he turned to her, naked and covered in her blood.

“I have to do this.”
“I know.”
“I can’t stop myself.”
“I know. We talked about this.”
“You, are so beautiful.”
And he spoke directly into her eyes.
His eyes were all that she could focus on, high as she was from the pain-pushed endorphins and on the edge of an entire loss of conciousness from the blood loss.
“Don’t go yet.” he said. “Be with me until the very end.”
“I want to be.” she replied. “I do want to be.”
“You’re so good to me. You’re so good.” and he clung to her then.
She could feel the darkness slipping around her, already she could barely focus on anything outside of them.
“You have to do this quickly…or I’ll go…I’ll try not to…not yet. But I can’t help it. It hurts so much.”
He looked at her face then.
“I’m sorry…it does hurt so much, I can’t help but… finish me quickly, let me feel it all…I want to know at the end.”
“I wish I could do this forever.” he said. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I have the advantage.” she said and smiled the sort of smile known only to the satisfied and dying.
“How?” he asked.
“You are with me forever now,” she replied. “The last man I will ever be with is you and you will be with me always, I’ll die in your arms…paws.” she corrected herself.
“Arms.” he said. “Arms. I’ll know when you go I won’t have you, who are too good for me go without me aware of it.”
“Arms.” she said, happily. Then her body was wracked by a sudden spasm.
“Hurry,” she said. “Don’t waste a bite, but hurry, finish it before I go.”

And he snarled and his teeth grew before her eyes and she watched him rip the flesh from her arm as she bit down against her hand and she watched him gnaw and take within himself what had been her but was now only his meat. And she loved him, a crested wave of it rose inside her even as she sunk against the cloud of black that dabbled at the edges of her vision. She could never hope to describe this feeling of being completely with him as he tore her flesh and swallowed it. She never would.

It was as he began to lovingly tear the flesh from her face that she worked out what must have triggered it. An accident of timetables. His work getting him back a night early, the full moon, and the month all coinciding. She stared up into his eyes, icy and blue all at once as her vision began to go, watching her blood run down his chin as he chewed and she knew she could never thank the felicity of chance enough.
His eyes met hers, and she knew he understood she could stay no longer, she knew he was watching her leave as his eyes never left hers and he bent his head to her throat.

She heard more than felt her throat being torn out, she even heard the beginnings of his chewing and swallowing her torn out gullet before the darkness overwhelmed her and all was black.


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Picture Of A Lady

22 May, 2009 at 23:20 (Uncategorized)

There’s a picture of you on my wall, in a blue dress,
and I cannot leave well enough alone.
There’s a picture of you looking back,
at the one gazing up, left behind.

There’s a man who pities me my love affairs,
there’s a man who pities me my heart,
he doesn’t understand the beauty in the almost,
he doesn’t understand the perfection
of the things that couldn’t start.

There’s a picture of you on my wall, in a blue dress,
with your head turned slightly, to glance behind.
I’m looking up at you looking back at me,
knowing that the painting is one of mine,
that this whole house is my creation;
as were the kisses we shared tonight.

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2 May, 2009 at 10:05 (Uncategorized)

Eyes, meeting,
30 seconds happened,
Life went on.
They happened.
And we know it,
nothing forgotten,
but acknowledged,
and we move on.

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