Realm of the Dead

I found myself suddenly on a bridge. I stood there for just a moment. Taking in the atmosphere. I was standing on a bridge in the middle of a lake. The air tastes like early morning. I couldn’t see the end of the bridge, both ends were shrouded in fog. As I looked out to the lake I could see some large ripples appearing, moving fast towards me.

As the ripples came closer I could make out a large, shapely body beneath the water. The creature beneath the water suddenly launched its large body unto the rails, balancing precariously with its huge weight. It looked at me thoughtfully for one moment, came to a decision, then hopped onto the pavement right in front of me, shaking the bridge slightly.

“Tell me about yourself.” The creature bubbled, its flippers motioning as he spoke.

“I’m not sure there’s much to tell.”

“Nonsense” Its words gargled, forming foam from its mouth that slipped off its giant tusks.

“Am I dead.”

“Yes you are. Soon your heart will be weighed and judged.”

“Who are you then?”

“I guide the dead.” The huge creature posed it’s body upwards, stretching out its flippers.

“Why are you a walrus?”

“I don’t know. Why are you a human?”

“That’s actually a good point.”

“There you go.”

 

We watched the lake together. Time stood still. Does time even flow in a place like this? I heard a gargling of water come from the walrus as he began to speak again.

“So, who are you then?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mischievous rock

There’s a rock in my room

That floats around my space

It can speak to me, telepathically

Floating in the midst of my dreams

It tells me I’m no good

Dropping itself, repeatedly, on my head

I wake up

Put it ouside, for bad behaviour

But it keeps smashing my window

 

“Not again” my parents say

But it wasn’t me

It was the rock!

See what you’ve done now

 

It keeps smashing against my head

Until I can’t think

I think he wants to get in there

I’ll grab a knife

I’ll split open my head

And let you in

Just don’t tell my parents, okay?

 

 

Whispering Birds

“Couldn’t you wait for it?”

The bird squawks from the chimney top

“Couldn’t you just hear her out?”

I tried to block out the voice

Holding my hands against my ears

Staring down at her

She’s moving slightly

“She was just about to explain, why didn’t you just wait, why are you always like this?”

 

I shot the bird

I shot it until it was nothing

But a feathery mess

I smashed its eggs

Mixing their liquids

Into the birds body

With my boots

 

“Couldn’t you just wait for it?”

I hear from a murder of flying crows

“She was just about to explain”

 

She’s still moving slightly

I close the door

And try to forget about it

 

Inspiration in the eyes of many

He rushes over the wall

Into the woodlands

Fully dressed in his rehab atire

Sunglasses masking his face

His chains still attached

 

His mind is only set on the

Pain

The attachment

The addiction

The deep, black, gaping hole that is

ever growing

Punching out all thoughts of optimism

 

His daughter, forgotten

His wife’s words stinging his mind

His friends, against him

His mum, ashamed

The thorns provoking his clammy white skin

Are no where near as painful as this

Tearing off chunks

Of what is left

Of his skinny frame

 

He is there

At the end

A garden shack

 

A heroin kit with his name on it

Followed by a shotgun, straight from above

His favourite cigerettes lie on the table

It’s as if an angel has bestowed gifts

In order to ease his passing

 

He smoked his last drag

in order to calm his mind

Cooked his heroin

Injected

 

 

Floated… Floating…

To the caves…

 

Full of sounds and smells…

So many kinds of smells…

Far away from people….

 

His subconscious slowly, gently lifted the shotgun

To the back of his mouth

Thoughts drifting like clouds

Time slowing down

Dribbling on the barrel

He pulled the trigger

 

 

Floating….

 

Far away from-uh p-people…

 

To-uh a cave-er full-oh of so…sou-und…smells…