Nathalie’s fault…

Everybody knows I love Eric’s writing (and Eric himself)
Tonight, he left a comment on my “Plus-one” post that was epic.
It wasn’t a comment—it was a story, it was a fable, it was a ballad.
I was blown away by it and when Eric asked if I minded him turning it into a blog post, I told him he’d better or I would have to do it myself since his words were too gorgeous not to be shared.
So, he did and I’m reblogging it. I’m so, SO honoured (and touched) my blurry photograph inspired such beautiful lines. Please read the luscious words of a wonderful man—a knight and a bard rolled into one 😍💜

No shadow

Even at that very last moment, I couldn’t help but be lenient. I guess it was just the habit, deeply ingrained, to spare you. I said most of the things I needed to, but each harsh word was enveloped in something soft to minimise its impact. I had meant to mention the money, the shame I feel on your behalf that you should haven taken and never repaid all that you obtained under false pretences.

Yet I abstained from referring to it, why? Honesty must apply to one as well as others – I am weak. And while delivering blows, I was still seeking to protect the criminal from the worst of the consequences of his own actions.
Is it any wonder you should have taken so much and left me in the lurch? That you were ungrateful, pushed me to the edge and precipitated my fall? That you showed no remorse for the trust you broke? That you lied to my face, lied to the very end, as you’d done so many times before?

Obviously, to some degree, I must be responsible. There can be no abuse without a victim, who is on some deep unconscious level, willing.
There is a fracture in me, childhood wounds never healed which enabled your toxicity.
We are both broken in different ways: you selfishly take everything while I selflessly give all – different cuts, different behaviour and very different results. While I seek to bring light to others, you unload your dark onto them — I try to heal, you poison.
It stands to reason that ours was a deadly attraction.

You are the vampire who almost bled me dry, but not quite, as I pulled back just in time.
You went off to find a fresh victim, having learnt nothing, as you never will, and I accepted there are people you just cannot fix.

I lay in bed, shivering with cold, all those thoughts twirling in my head, half delirious with fever brought on by a flu strain and I think:
you will eventually be consumed by that gaping hole at your core. You’ve lost too much weight, maybe? I don’t know, but you looked drawn, and old, when I saw you a week ago. New lines were showing on your face, bags under your eyes with a febrile light dancing inside them. You’ve been wearing the mask for a few weeks now, pretty much on a constant basis, it is definitely taking its toll – convincing the new victim, and therefore yourself, that you’re perfect is exhausting.
How long until the mask slips? Until cracks appear in the facade? Not much longer by the look of you: replicating, imitating feelings you know nothing about is taxing — adoration needed by those incapable of real love comes at such a heavy price.

Soon, the mirror is going to shatter and when the sun reappears you’ll be casting no shadow. None at all. While mine will be standing tall. Honestly? I take no comfort in that thought.

*I have been struck down by a flu virus thingy. I haven’t been ill since last December so I should really count myself lucky, but I’ve been shivering in bed all day with an awful headache, feeling utterly miserable.*

Choices

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Citing fate and destiny is for the weak and the meek, the ones seeking absolution for their own actions.
“It was or wasn’t meant to be” only occurs in the rarest of cases – most of the time, life has nothing to do with fate but with the choices we decide to make.

“Whatever choice you make, makes you. Choose wisely.”
Roy Bennett

Chameleons & sheep

sheep_field_by_struckdumb

The little girl squirmed on her mother’s knee, she wasn’t interested in stories and thought books were boring.

When her father tried to teach her the names of the different flowers, plants and trees, she sighed and wondered what the fuss was about.

All she wanted to do was to sit with the sheep out in the fields – they were fluffy and sweet – they didn’t attempt to speak to her, or teach her things. She liked to run her hands through their fleece while they stared vacantly into nothing.

One day, the little girl forgot to go home, or maybe she really didn’t want to, she slept between the sheep, dreaming in black and white, ate blades of grass, green stains spreading on her dress.

It was 2 weeks until they found her, she didn’t recognise her mother, she had lost the ability to speak and could do no more than bleat as they sought to brush her hair which had lost its shine and now resembled a tangled coarse mass of wool. She had only been gone 2 weeks but it took years to get her back to some semblance of normality – make of this story what you will.

*Have you noticed how some people take on the tastes, opinions, speech patterns, vocabulary, expressions and sometimes even habits and so on… of those they interact with the most? It’s a weird chameleon thing I’ve never quite understood, it seems to denote a lack of personality to me…or at least a weak one. I’ve had the occasion to observe this at close quarters many times in the past and very recently as well.  In any case…

chickens-and-eagles

Image credit: struckdumb.deviantart.com

Rein Me in and Rain on My Reign (written with Antony and Matt)

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Judge a book by its cover, you’re a fucker
You think you can rein me in, lead my way
Say whatever the fuck you want to say
You don’t know me, the truth I keep inside
I hide from assholes like you
Narcissistic assholes like you
Rein me in and rain on my reign?
Your fangs drip to suck a life
But all you’ll get from me is my knife.

I’ve met your kind before
You think you’re the first?
shooting acid with your words
aiming for me like errant pinballs
In my life I’ve uncovered many stones
at times, underneath crawled poisoned toads
Rein me in and rain on my reign?
Not bloody likely, I don’t fucking think so!
Get ready to fail & fall on my sword

I’ll reign o’re your thoughts like plague to flesh
slowly eat them alive until only woe is left
I’m not your sick interpretation
I’m the definitive superlative final resignation
the new definition for your mental pain
thought you could rein me in and rain on my reign?
I’ll leave you visibly shaken
laugh as you twitch— and as you beg for abjuration;
I’ll just call it a day and smile as men in white drag you away

Written by Nathalie, Antony and Matt

*Collaboration with my bros Antony and Matt: Antony led the way with instructions for me to follow (I was happy to be his bitch and do his bidding) and for Matt to close the whole thing — Matt, I SO love how you finished in full gangsta rap style! This was a really fast write but I like it, I can see Eminem performing it 😎 Thank you guys, as per usual it was unpredictable and SO much fun. Oh, and I love you both, but you already know that 😘  *

Bitch in heat

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1…2? Yes,
twice today
I’ve had to seek
a little peace
to attend to a pressing need
kinda embarrassing, really
I was visiting
friends, their house is pretty neat
made a weak excuse
I’ve no skills for diplomatic ruse
practically ran to the bathroom –
at last, calm down, breathe in and out
lift the dress
lose the panties
blood rushing
ears ringing
faucet leaking
drops turn into a spring –
Nobody can accuse me
of not being a well-oiled machine –
urgency builds
hips rocking
back arching
all over pinky sheen
Hurry, time’s a-wastin’
people are waiting, wondering
what the hell you’re doing
Quick, fingers
sliding
faster
and faster
until
the hot release
sweet enough to induce tears
exploding
Vesuvius had nothing on me
except maybe
the tragedy
here, only little death
nothing on a grand scale
Shhh…the door is closed
but I can’t stifle the moans
yet…
Wait!
I don’t actually care
if the whole world is there
listening
or even watching
blame my voyeuristic streak
I can’t help it
If I’m nothing more than a bitch in heat

*Apologies, but I’ve only got one thing on my mind at the moment, my brain isn’t working properly. When it came to finding a pic for this, I couldn’t be bothered to look and decided to use this one I’ve used before – it’s almost 2 years old but I love that it’s (purposefully) all grainy and that I look real tough, like nobody would dare to mess with me…I mean, even *I* wouldn’t dream of messing with this chick if I saw this pic 😎 😈 *

Fake

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You, fumbling in the backseat… as if we were 16… I played along, faked a lack of expertise but now,
I’m all out of magnanimity, I’m not even sure it was funny
to start with.
It takes a special type of man to turn me submissive.
There are some who can bring me to my knees, with a look and the tantalising sound of a zip,
their fingers twisting, pulling my hair, gripping my neck…at times, I like nothing better, I don’t even mind the resulting bruises.

Those men ain’t you.

So why don’t you brush up on your technique & personality,
forget the
1,2,3 and switch
lifted from
unimaginative porn movies
lose the guitar, the pretending you’re a rock star, with the same 4 notes played over and over again, trash the copy of “On The Road”,
quoting Kerouac – without heart – will only take you so far; even the whiskey bottle, it’s all staged, all for show,
and by the way, I don’t at all rate Jared Leto.

Look at you strutting your stuff, thinking you’re a fallen angel, an experimental artist, I guess the fact you’re a dental hygienist is purely accidental,
a mere step on your road to greatness.

I was bored babe, in a state, that’s the only reason you caught me in your tatty net when you went on your “catching a rare butterfly” quest.
When it comes to fantasies & lovers,
you’re down on your luck and I don’t give a fuck
because
let’s be real,
I’ve actually got more balls
than you.

Image Credit: down-a-rabbit-hole.deviantart.com