Murmurs From Oblivion

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


Murmurs From Oblivion

Submitted: June 04, 2018

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Submitted: June 04, 2018

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We vibrate in the everyday.  We watch how you move through time and space.  Between moments we feast on the static falling from your brain.  Sea foam as our fur you see us only when you look away.  Our little claws prickle you when you rub your eyes.  Flashing fireworks behind your sight is our orgasm.  We want you we want you we want you we want you.  

There is a pause in the conversation and he becomes aware of his surroundings.  He gazes steadily at her moving mouth but he hears no words.  There is activity all around him.  People moving trays of food.  Clattering dishes. Blurry cars outside the window.  He hears it all as soft music.  He sees it all as a series of paintings.  He blinks. He feels them and they say unto him.

We are the night haze.  Neon streaks to bring you comfort when you watch yourself from afar.  Air that fills your stomach and lights gripping you to the earth.  We have been with you always.  Stitching your sensation together.  Creating your moments and your idea that you are alive.  We are the void and the everything and the in-between and the outer realm.  And you are our child.  We love you we love you we love you we love you.

He wakes.  She is breathing softly next to him.  She feels warm nestled against him.  He felt overwhelmed with passion only a few hours ago when they heaved themselves against and with each other.  Now she feels plastic.  And he is dry inside.  Shouldn’t there be a connection? An entwinement of being?  He tried so hard to meld with her.  To press against  her and become one.  And they scream unto him.

We create itch and disquiet.  Conceptualize excelling as travelling along the line of all that can exist.  We will push you to the furthest points of depravity and perfection.  You will break and murder.  You will caress and save.  We are the bottomless roar in the abyss of your gut.  Tearing at you until you are torn asunder and become unhinged to even psychotic thought.  And your spiral twists and becomes warped yet straight in of itself.

The sun slowly sinks below the horizon.  Its last rays illuminate a streak of orange across the sea.  He lights a cigarette and watches its smoke billow into the darkening sky.  He smells the sea and the smoke.  He feels the cooling breeze and the dying warmth of the day.  The wind tousles his hair and tickles his scalp.  He hears the tide as the sea clapping its hands.  She comes quietly behind him and embraces him from behind.  He was alone.  Now she is with him.  She is warm.  They are not one.  Now she is with him.

We are the moments you crave.  We are the lonely and the angst.  We are hatred and rage.  We are hot feeling and cold numb.  We are love and beauty.  We are everything you feel but can’t put words to.  We are the past, the future, the now.  We are life and death.  We will make you human.  We are you. 

He is alone.  She is with him now.  They embrace side by side.  He looks into her eyes.  Their lips touch.  A rose blooms in his chest.  Silent explosions of red and gold all around.  He is not alone.  She is with him now. 

And we are only this. And we name it thus.  

She is with him.  And it is good.


© Copyright 2018 Imit Zeha. All rights reserved.

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