Saturday, October 24, 2009


It's not "natural", "normal" or kind
The flesh you so fancifully fry
The meat in your mouth
As you savour the flavour


I wish I died today. Everybody should have the right to die. But this curse... I can’t stand it anymore. We, the grubs, sleep in a cocoon, but just a few of us become butterflies.
I'll go where nobody can see me, where the light can’t hurt me, where the cold burns only the good ones. I didn’t get used to the smell of earth yet, or to dampness, or to faded flowers. Today, more than ever, the creatures of the night frighten me. I don’t want to live in shadows.
I wish I died today. I wish I had not killed him. There is no worse condemnation than killing what we love. However, sooner or later he would have died. Now I am doomed to live this life, painted dull in gray scale. Today I will teach him to hunt, and then he will go away, like the others. It’s always the same, dead or alive everybody goes away but me.
I don’t want to be a friend of the flowers that scent on the stars. I won’t fly in flocks with bats. I won’t talk to the owls. Today I wish I saw the rainbow. I wish I were human again. I would like to be a mortal. Yes, I wish I died today.
I could wait until the sun sets and walk nowhere, get to a hidden place and take shelter. I could wait until dawn, and let the sun consume me. But I'm afraid of dying.
I’ll have to quench my thirst again. I could get up and peep through the window to see if it's true what they say about the sun, but I am afraid of getting blind. Dead and blind. Is there anything worse? I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking. All I can feel are these walls oppressing me. I'm a fruit locked in a can: If I stay, I’ll end up rotten. If I go, my remains will be devoured.
Today the ravens may come and get me, and I’ll tell them that I may be dead, but I’m not carrion. Today I can be broken apart even though I won’t feel any pain, because when you’re dead only your soul hurts. They can stick me daggers, but they won’t make me bleed.
Today I am dry water, a flexible bone, a speaking wall. Today I am everything the others want me to be, but nothing that I want to be myself.
Because today I want to die, but I can’t. Because I have to wait until night to come out of this coffin. Because I fear that this coffin is nothing but my own body.

Saturday, October 17, 2009


Mary was awakened by her own cry. She had dreamed of vampires. She jumped from bed. The sheets were stained with blood, and so was Mary. She left the bed and sat huddled in a corner. She could not stop shaking and wondering what had happened. It was snowing, and the window was open. She heard a flutter. Looked around. In between the sheets laid a dying bat. Its neck was torn. Mary's mouth felt sticky. She recognized the taste of death. Could not bear the horror. She looked out the window, and flew away.