Corrupt

There’s too much illness in the New World for Miss Liberty to function. After having led all the captives to freer soil, across and above ground, she found that the camps may not have been the worst places on earth.

There is a plague out here, and the apocalypse can’t be that high up in the clouds

The sky is falling and those shards seem to cut and infect some of my people every single day. I can’t tell them from the rest anymore. Not even my Love.

I stay inside most of the time. Alone. Whether for physical safety or psychological terror…I don’t know the difference anymore.

This is not much different from being locked up for months at a time and forced to drink water until the hunger ebbs off.

It is not so much different from being beat with the butt of a guard gun…at least that pain eventually stops with a little blood

but this,

this is intolerable.

I want to claw my way out of this home I built on the outskirts of this sick new society, but I don’t want to breathe the air.

all the things I’d once sworn to die for mean nothing anymore. The sight of sun, the freedom to marry, skirts, my choice of foods, television, ice cold water…nothing.

corruption is the one thing worse than captivity.

My Love…God rest his soul…one day I’ll figure out how to fix this, and I’ll find him

but I’m not going out there. Not without a plan. Not without a potion…a poison.

kill the virus not the people, but some may be sacrificed to save the lot…

 

 

-Liberty Shastain

Whenever There Was You 6/10

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You and I seasoned the Earth with enough passion to poison.

The willow leaves curtained in the real cause for the season’s change

I don’t think there was anything else that Spring. No sky, no voices, no water, no frogs

just the curtain and a certain smell of unsucked honey suckle

blooming from between your teeth.

I tend to write you next to plants because of these memories hung down like wet leaves

leaving: an act that once felt like a ripped off arm

grew into a valley of pink roses, never to be touched by human hands

but a mesmerizing meeting place for minds on different planes

to explore the same wavelength for pinches of time

dreaming  that can’t be pinched awake.

speak softly but please never stop speaking

let us haunt the spaces between these roses until there is an imprint

of two gorgeous invisible bodies

lying side by side

because eye to eye

so much has to be left to the imagination

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Whenever There Was You” 5/10

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Something happened in LA that made you so excited

That you attacked me for the first time…the only time ever

When you came home

You talked dirty to me and lasted

You savored

You needed

And afterward you even told me it was mostly because of me….

Mostly

Yet it only happened that once.  In two years.

Whatever it was…whomever it was…in LA,

the event was so deep and incredibly intense that you wouldn’t tell me what happened

Not then. Not now. I ask, and you close up

Like a flytrap hiding an insect

So here in this coffin of unknowns and questions and being told

The truth is not suitable for my temperament

I try to breathe and believe that when something breaks

I will be far enough under ground for you to not have to hear the shatter

Emotionally walled in and , with some practice, skilled enough to blend into the black

There will be no crisis,

Or crying until the bottom lid of eyes droop like some do after consumption

there will be no bells and squawking of Buzzards circling over dead things in the street

no more broken instruments that only play a high-pitched drone out of holes on the side

I’ll refrain from taking you on these rollercoaster rides built by Carnies

that always seem to throw us off at the very top

I get it.

I’ll stop.

And you just keep on inside the morning you envisioned for today.

All sun, no waves….problems burbling somewhere deep in the buried.

But not asked after.

The cemetery quiet of days filled with things that “aren’t a big deal.”

“Whenever There Was You” 4/10

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That entire month was a 6 ring circus.
Do you know how much fire I had to swallow
To burn the extra flesh from my mid section?
That was only the opening act!
But the ladies loved it and wanted me to teach them
the trick of cooking themselves to perfection.
You wouldn’t speak to me for weeks.
You missed my thighs that could make a head disappear
You were disappointed in the skinny scars.
Burns.
But it was all for you love
All for perfect.
All for my idea of your perfect.
When there was you
I should have loved myself too…

“Whenever There Was You” 3/10

I was so intense that I exhausted you
And made you think it was love

that wore you out.

You spent days being spent 

like an inadvertent swim to hold off drowning.

There’s only so long a person will drift

before thier lungs give out.

I guess I suffocated you but you loved it

And it was great, and horrible and weird

And don’t act like I threw my own self into tangents.

You’d request an ocean 

And I spilled.

“Whenever There Was You” 2/10

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The most attractive lighting is that which is commingled with the dark;
a brush of gold leaf wiped against a Jet black veneer. The perfect coupling.
I asked you to watch out for me when this dream stopped, and we had to end it.
You agreed, cynical as the color blue shining across a body of cold sea glass.
I know I should have asked for more light
but hell if your dark wasn’t the most addictive slice of disaster
I’ve ever wanted to ingest without an antidote.
I was careful to curb the urge to beam as I indulged in our last days
as one human,
the dying  do not often welcome the end.
Coming to this final realization with you
was the first time I could ever be a corpse covered in glorious Magnolias
lying next to a skeleton with ripe pink roses growing up through his eyes
each lingering look from you blossomed me
and where there was you
things always grew.

 

 

Whenever There Was You 1/10

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And then there were gaps in between when we’d stop breathing.
Remember?
That perfect relaxation of an exhale without the instant need of pulling in more air
Those few seconds when our bodies weren’t at a deficit
because somehow we’d managed to forget anything from the outside.
I used to think people were exaggerating. They’d say
“I felt the earth move”
“My heart came into my throat”
“I couldn’t remember my name…”
But I couldn’t! Really, I couldn’t.

Learning Ancient Languages

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Reaching out is all we have left to remind us our arms are made of connective gold

My tendons to your tendons to my joints to your bones…

To the white round metallic of tonight.

Sure , there are other things. Dreams.

Precarious memories. Leftover music. But the pulses never stop.

That rhythm right inside the skin of my wrist

As I’m trying to resist the blood flow from my hand to yours

It’s impossible

That voice is coming from somewhere inside us, just another mystery of the blood

Foreign black gold, a liquid I don’t understand, never tasted, never taught

Yet it lives on my tongue

Within my continent. Within the structure of earth I have become

I have always been sand, and bush, and water, and mud

I have always been copper…and at one point I must have known that

Because every time I speak, there is an extra echo

 

Learning Ancient Languages

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Reaching out is all we have left to remind us our arms are made of connective gold

My tendons to your tendons to my joints to your bones…

To the white round metallic of tonight.

Sure , there are other things. Dreams.

Precarious memories. Leftover music. But the pulses never stop.

That rhythm right inside the skin of my wrist

As I’m trying to resist the blood flow from my hand to yours

It’s impossible

That voice is coming from somewhere inside us, just another mystery of the blood

Foreign black gold, a liquid I don’t understand, never tasted, never taught

Yet it lives on my tongue

Within my continent. Within the structure of earth I have become

I have always been sand, and bush, and water, and mud

I have always been copper…and at one point I must have known that

Because every time I speak, there is an extra echo

 

 Lemons, and Love, and Never Leave

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In this scene Raz arrives to Pangea’s rented cottage-style house on a humid Spring afternoon that threatens horrible rain. His face threatens horrible news, but in Pangea’s cheerful stupor, she is just happy he’s come to visit. This is what happens when soulmates try to run from the soul.

“Hey Gia, I-I just came to give you your notebook back.”

Pangea, perplexed by how nervously he fidgeted from side to side and avoided eye contact, tried to regain the ease with which she had become accustomed to being around him. she smiled,

“I’ll take it only after you’ve finished the poem we started together. Did you write anything on it so far?” Instead of replying, he pulled the blue, leather bound composition out of his laptop case and sat it beside her on the porch. He frowned and looked away.

“Is everything alright? Here, come inside and have some lemonade.” She suggested getting up, but instead he sat beside her and placed a hand on her leg so she’d stay put. Looking deeply, though reluctantly into her eyes he swallowed and said,

“We can’t do this anymore.” the words were pinched and seemed to come out with great difficulty, but however hard it was to say could not match the weight with which that comment sunk into her gut. She turned her Jazz radio down and took a breath before she answered,

“You’re already seeing someone. That’s it, isn’t it?” this seemed to annoy him, but the expression passed quickly and she shook his head as though that was the stupidest thing she could have some up with.

“that’s not it at all. I just need you to understand that we are nothing. Okay?”

The soft strands of music were drenched in the weather of an evil Spring. Sirens of whooping winds began swelled all around them as tiny raindrops began to break against the asphalt like shards of glass falling from chandeliers of the sky. Heaven’s cathedrals were falling. It was so warm, but so gray. Pangea needed him to take back his last statement, and never ever say it again. She couldn’t handle it. She needed him to tell her it was just a joke so she laughed,

“Raz. Raz, come on. We just met a couple of weeks ago and this is really going well. We’re just friends, I don’t want to lose that.”

“that’s just it. we aren’t just friends. We are two weeks in to being not just friends and it’s moving too fast. I don’t want to hurt you…”

“then don’t.” she said sharply her eyes pleading with his silence, “Please.” He stood to leave and she was on his heels. “wait, no!”

“What Gia?” he whipped around,  “You are a beautiful young woman okay? So young you’ve got God and the whole universe ahead of you. go get it. Don’t follow me.”

As if she couldn’t hear him she stepped forward and squeezed his body to hers. He stiffened,

“Dammit Gia.” She growled under his breath. Pangea knew that for whatever, reason he was trying to push her away. It seemed against his will, nonetheless something he’d decided on firmly. So No crying….no tears.  This stranger, whose presence was only few months old in her life. It made no sense the distance her heart fell into the earth. He buried her alive with just one ambiguous comment but hell if she was going to make this messy.

Soon he pulled away. Raz watched her for a moment before all at once his fingers curled deep into her sides and brought his mouth hard to hers. long and languid, they kissed picking up where they left off that other day at the pier, and the day before that in the studio, and the day before that after the show. She bit down gently, holding his bottom lip and all its memories there. Pulling away, Wet faced and exhausted she whispered,

“so that means nothing?”

“I love you, I’m just not going to put myself in a position to hurt you.”

“the only thing that hurts is saying no.”

“okay,” he smirked, “then I’m saying yes. Yes to you coming with me to concerts, no to you coming home with me afterward. Yes to dancing at the club with our friends…no to feeding you strawberries while we study ancient languages.”

“but that was fun!” she chuckled, trying to let his new light hearted demeanor take away the ache of this gentle breakup. “yes to more kisses?”

“No. yes to bear hugs. No to sitting around in our underwear talking about philosophy. Yes to writing about sex. No to having it.”

Pangea, still virginal, but eager to explore that part of herself with the right person, this person, sighed deeply and went back to the porch to get her notebook.

“then, I ask again. Please do not return this until that poem is dripping with desire and body heat. Deal?”

He nodded, “deal.”

Raz didn’t retreat as quickly as he’d planned to. Like a reflex he followed her into her house for that lemonade. And stayed for another glass claiming it had been the best damned lemonade he’d ever tasted. They watched something on television, but would not be able to tell you what it was as they were throwing grapes at eachothers mouths from across the couch and keeping score next to The Poem in that blue notebook. Raz was about to win until the last grape he threw into Pangea’s mouth tried to go into her wind pipe. He was upon her and trying to fish it out of her mouth when she bit his finger and he realized she was pretending.

This led to a tickle fight…that led to a wrestling match…that degenerated into Raz kissing every part of her body he could get to while she still had on her tank top and shorts.

“no, keep them on, Gia. This is fine. This is good.”

“I want you to have access to everything. And don’t ever leave me. And kiss me like this all the time…and do whatever you want to me” she whispered in a cacophony of longing trying to make its way out of her mouth.

“shhhh.” He kissed her lips, and nodded, “I get it.”