The Chatter Of Blood
My blood talks.
Yes, it does.
It talks when hungry. It gets hungry often. The feeling is surreal at first. It whispers then. But when it talks, it's like bugs.
Yes, bugs.
It gnaws at my skin with sharp teeth. It’s got that rhythm. I want to touch it, curse it, scratch it. Talk to it.
So when it gets hungry, I talk to it. More so, my nails talk to it. It's talking now. Because of her. I curse her.
Yes, her.
She wants to me clean. Else she’d leave.
She doesn’t hear it talk. No, she doesn’t. How could she? It talks only to me. But she sees my nails talking to it. The bugs. She doesn’t like it.
Bitch.
I tied her. To a bed. My nails talked to her earlier. She wailed. I was louder. Cursing her. It was the blood that made me do it.
Yes, it made me.
It talks when it needs that push. A push of steel and it stops. The bugs go away. My nails need washing. I know this because I’m not cursing. I can see my skin. There are no bugs. They vanish with the talk.
Yes, they do.
But now, it talks. The bugs are gnawing. I don’t know where it is. She hid it.
Yes, she did.
She doesn’t like me talking. I can’t stop hearing it talk. It wants the push. One little push and it will stop. Most days, I never hear it because it has ten pushes.
Now it has none. I can feel the bugs coming. They are hungry. I want to scream. She is watching me. She is smiling. My nails talk to her again.
Give it to me, bitch!
She cries. I laugh. It laughs. I ask again. She cries. I laugh. It commands. I can’t bear it.
I need it!
My nails are red. She is redder. What am I doing? I shouldn’t. But I am. I ask again. She cries. I cry.
In the drawer.
Yes!
I struggle with the wood. I thrash the clothes. I see it. I hold it. Touch it. I laugh.
She cries.
My blood chatters. It wants the steel. I look at her. She looks at me. I feel the steel. It’s shouting. The bugs are feasting. Then they stop. I see my nails. It needs washing. I see her. She needs me. Clean. I laugh. I can feel the tears.
It’s over.
I can hear the hum. The hum in my blood.
Yes, it does.
It talks when hungry. It gets hungry often. The feeling is surreal at first. It whispers then. But when it talks, it's like bugs.
Yes, bugs.
It gnaws at my skin with sharp teeth. It’s got that rhythm. I want to touch it, curse it, scratch it. Talk to it.
So when it gets hungry, I talk to it. More so, my nails talk to it. It's talking now. Because of her. I curse her.
Yes, her.
She wants to me clean. Else she’d leave.
She doesn’t hear it talk. No, she doesn’t. How could she? It talks only to me. But she sees my nails talking to it. The bugs. She doesn’t like it.
Bitch.
I tied her. To a bed. My nails talked to her earlier. She wailed. I was louder. Cursing her. It was the blood that made me do it.
Yes, it made me.
It talks when it needs that push. A push of steel and it stops. The bugs go away. My nails need washing. I know this because I’m not cursing. I can see my skin. There are no bugs. They vanish with the talk.
Yes, they do.
But now, it talks. The bugs are gnawing. I don’t know where it is. She hid it.
Yes, she did.
She doesn’t like me talking. I can’t stop hearing it talk. It wants the push. One little push and it will stop. Most days, I never hear it because it has ten pushes.
Now it has none. I can feel the bugs coming. They are hungry. I want to scream. She is watching me. She is smiling. My nails talk to her again.
Give it to me, bitch!
She cries. I laugh. It laughs. I ask again. She cries. I laugh. It commands. I can’t bear it.
I need it!
My nails are red. She is redder. What am I doing? I shouldn’t. But I am. I ask again. She cries. I cry.
In the drawer.
Yes!
I struggle with the wood. I thrash the clothes. I see it. I hold it. Touch it. I laugh.
She cries.
My blood chatters. It wants the steel. I look at her. She looks at me. I feel the steel. It’s shouting. The bugs are feasting. Then they stop. I see my nails. It needs washing. I see her. She needs me. Clean. I laugh. I can feel the tears.
It’s over.
I can hear the hum. The hum in my blood.
This entry was posted
on Sunday, September 25, 2005 at 5:01 PM.
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