I am truly grateful that my adventures into these fantastical realms aren't always done alone but with the company of other writers, other escapees. They too have discovered the not-so-secret world of imagination and offer themselves to me and I to them. We merge like mists, dissolving into one another and into shared dreamscapes and at other times thrust upon each other in mock wars where we bleed and battle with fearsome ferocity.
You know you’re watching the death-throes of humanity when even the wounded amongst us are engaged in sanctimonious pissing contests over their suffering. Is there an algorithm for determining the validity of ones suffering? Perhaps we could tally up the number of wounds per year and divide it by our age then times it by... Continue Reading →
I remember when you swallowed my heart, and wore my body as your own. My skin peaked to your touch and lungs burned for your breath. I remember your eyes painted me in rapture as your fingers drew God in my flesh. Your voice breached my soul’s cipher and cast out the disquiet of... Continue Reading →
So few memories have been written with absolute clarity. Most are faint odours, the lingering fragrance of blooms with bowed heads. The exceptions are all of you; moments carved into my bones, woven between synapses in colours as brilliant as the first day they were painted, rich with the layered scents of blossoms in full pride.
I was folding laundry and noticed the hand prints stamped in mud; the towels had hung at just the right height for you to wipe your hands on them having no regard for the effort I’d taken to wash them. I felt the frustration boil in my belly as I turned and stormed outside to find you. On the doorstep I saw you crouched over your sin and with thunder on my brow and lightning on my lips I opened my mouth to unleash a scolding storm.
You flashed a grin that halted a…
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These moments climb on me like a wet dog neglected of maintenance, the stench of which clings like shame to empty bones. Someone heard me echo, and my hollowness revealed, I deflated on sharp truths. Once a delight in a child's hands now scurried away lest I choke the poor mite. Is there nothing... Continue Reading →
My piece from Morality Park
I’m the smiling assassin
a law abiding anarchist
and a natural borne liar
but, you can call me Hope.
Lean a little closer
tilt your head just so
I’ll drip a little honey
sweet cure for your woes
wounds delivered by my sister’s hand
she’s quite the bitch, you know
I’ll tell you that shadows
are born because of light
and soon a dawn is coming
so just you hold on tight
I’ll respond to ‘are we there yet’
with ‘just a little longer’
whilst swollen with the knowledge
that that star died long ago.
I’ll teach you to savour
the burn of skinless flesh
as I lure you into salt mines
to delight in the deafening
kumbayah of exposed nerves;
a song for deaf ears.
Come a little closer
reach out and take my hand
I’m a sadist of the highest order
but, you can call me Hope.
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With all my lithe linguistics I am still struck dumb, unable to describe this possession of mind and body where I am balanced on the thinnest cold steel blade. Severed from reality to roam free yet bound like quarks; we know fulfillment and hunger at the same time. The sight of you stimulates like cold... Continue Reading →
How is it that you're able to conjure responses just by your presence on my mind confirmed by thoughts that slick my stride of mouths dancing in the wake of love lips seasoned and tongues soaked whilst I strike a nestling pose begging to be fed my body whimpers and writhes, the unease of needs... Continue Reading →
Unleash your winds of fury, snap the trees like twigs, I'll take you in my lungs, exhale you as a breeze. Release sheets of tears, flood my plains, I'll wear your sadness as a blanket, sleep in its folds. Vomit rage and grief into the troposphere, I'll purse my lips and blow it all away.... Continue Reading →
I’m a casual observer
of this cannibalistic carnival
where we line up the bruised and broken
in the house of mirrors
just to mock the distortion
exaggerate the distinctions
of society’s abortions.
I’m watching humanity’s hangover;
a shit stain in a toilet bowl
of God’s golden palace
and I’m pounding on the glass
with bloody fists
and a soundless voice
whilst I run circles in my fishbowl
having yet to climb out
why I want to.
©All original work copyright Maggie Lawson 2018
Maggie L. chews crayons here: The Art of Chewing Crayons