PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

chaos - prose

Wednesday, Jun. 26, 2002
I read somewhere once that children of dysfunctional families will later crave chaos. I think theyíre right. I crave it, harbor it, adore it and make love to it every chance I get. And yet I know I have a love/hate relationship with it. Chaos is my best friend, because I know her inside and out. Chaos is bright colors on my gray wall. Chaos strokes my every erogenous zone. She knows right where to kiss me. She makes me feel right at home, the home sweet home of feeling alone. I know Alone inside and out. Chaos is her twin sister. But Alone is quiet she doesnít have to shout. Alone she can cause pain, in silence, she is the better moan. They come in pairs sometimes. But sometimes Chaos comes alone. She brings a cake and I hungrily lick drips of icing and always fall ill. Itís far too sweet for a girl like me. She brings a cake, and I can never find the file. I stare at the bars and I donít even ask myself why they are there. Itís a given. Theyíve been there all along. They embrace me like an old friend. Iíve never seen my face without those long beamed shadows across it. The sun only comes in slanted and slatted. Itís an ironic thing to have a love affair with Chaos. Sheís a wicked girl that talks first to every other emotion that ever arrives. She lets few in. And when she does, itís to play her game. Her pretty game called insane.

There is not a strong enough man to beat her away from me. There is not a strong enough love to murder her without consequence. Chaos. Sheís my hottest lover. Sheís inside of my flesh. Sheís running her fingertips on every part of me. Sheís in control. I am her masochistic slave. I open myself to her, wet, wanting, begging. I give her more and I beg for her worse not her best. I hand her the whip and beg her for welts. Blue on white sheets of my flesh. Words that bleed me close to death. When she goes away, I seek her. I hunt her. I crave the taste of her. I need her and I canít see anything without her next to me. I remember her in the calmness. Calmness strangles me. Calm is a girl I donít understand. She speaks a language I canít comprehend. I push her away in my own muteness of contemplation. I canít kiss her, I canít hold her, I canít become one with her. Infidelity was never part of Chaosís game. She would leave me for that sin, and I would never be the same. I want to hurt her, but Iím fearful. Without herÖwhere would I go? I have found solace in the knowledge that sheís the same always Öand thatís right where Iíve always wanted to go.

Chaos strokes me with guilty pleasure under a thousand blankets of memory. She strips me of future, itís easy for her because I am always too willingly blind to see. Donít tell me she hurts me, for I crave the pain. Donít tell me sheíll leave me, Iíll beg her to stay.

I remember tiny hands, clasped under pillows of tears, a child crying in silence in each of those years. Chaos was there, she promised to stay. I held her hand and I knew she always meant everything she would say. She stroked my cheek and whispered in my hair. ďIts your fault, your different, nobody will care.Ē ďIíll hold you, constrict you, teach you to breath without air.Ē I hunched down and held out and then I succumbed. I gave in and cried with and learned how to be numb. I dreamt with and lied with and tried always to maintain a straight-line stare. I needed her then and I need her still because I just think she should hold me and always be there. I love her and then I canít stand her right now. I need her and I hate her and I have to forget her somehow.

Sheís wicked. I love her. Sheís killing me slow. I need her. I know you donít understand, but I do and soÖ

Iím running and crying and fighting like hell. But Iím drawn back to her pretty face and her wicked sweet smell. Touch me, love me and then smack me around. I need you and I canít want you and thereís got to be an answer I havenít yet found. Chaos is in me, and I canít beat her out. I love her, I watch herÖI whisper I shout. Chaos is me. I have her name. Where once we were two different girls, we grew up to be the same.


I want to dedicate this storyÖthis proseÖ to Mad. Thanks for being there for me, even when Iím insane. With chaos I need you, in chaos I remainÖ
3:06 a.m. ::
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