lidia III

Something tore my insides apart, made me brittle and weak. I held him in my arms, my dying boy. He was helplessly gasping for breath. I kissed him with hollow eyes he looked to me. I shouted. I promised. I screamed with everything I had. But it just didn’t take the pain away. In the ally way, the rain began to pour. He was my baby boy, my baby boy. I rocked him. The night was silent except for the rain that knocked vigorously against the concrete floors and houses.

The smell of canals were all around me and my boy, me and my boy forever together. It took everything out of me to not look at his insides spilling from his torso and simply tried to see him for who he was, my beautiful baby boy but the stench prevented me from ignoring them. Desperately, I tried to put the slimy things back from whence they came, his intestines, his kidney, everything seemingly bigger than they should’ve been. They were all over the place! Scattered. The rain was making it harder, harder for me to see, harder for me to get my black hair from sticking to my face. My special baby boy. With shivering hands and frustration I tried, again, again, again, trying to fit in the puzzle that was his body, his insides, his everything.

I heard the sirens. I ran, like I always did, I ran.

Soaked with his blood, my knee length black tube dress was darker, and was embracing me with the cold touch of its wet fabric. The sparkling diamonds around my neck looked like rubies. My hands were red, blood red, my face and hair also with several streaks of blood from when I tried desperately to kiss him to wake. I was dripping blood and acid rain water. I remembered how I ran and ran from my baby boy. I screamed. Flashes of her blue eyes ran along my thoughts: her white face, her black robe, when she dropped from the sky. In my heart of hearts I remember calling for a savior, my mistress and my lover. Her smile, her whispers. I look intently at my reflection. Scarred. I remember closing my eyes and dirfting away from my reflection.

I saw her tower over him, her sword in front of her. I saw her slice his flesh neatly open, his blood gently spilling out, his screams and laughter bubbling out as well, mixing together as if in song. I remember his naked chest heaving as she did her task. With one flawless movement she twirled her sword using her wrist like a mere baton and put it back in it’s shaft to the left of her.

Then the noise that made me scream and cry. I covered my ears, they were wet. I look at my hands, there were new streaks of fresh blood.

Blank.

lidia II

I wrote to my love.

My lidia.
I envy you. Yes . You. You know who you are.
The beautiful perfect flawless alien that you are
Your porcelain eyes haunt me when I wake, when I sleep. Do you know that?
I am not jealous because of the hearts you hold so effortlessly in your hands
The one that crawls to you even when you trample, spit or even burn it. No, even if I pity that distorted heart that I once cradled whispered to and kissed every waking minute. No.
I am jealous of your oddness.
Your blood that seems to poison humans that you meet.
I wish I can poison. But I am human. I wish I can be alien. But I am human.
And you don’t care - foreigner. Of that I am jealous too.
I wish I can be passive. But I am human. I wish I can be alien. But I am human.

lidia I

Erica walked across the glamorous oval shaped room with tall windows that allowed the moonlight fill the place a certain gleam. The bed, at the end of the room, looked a little bit frightening with its size but she figured: all first times are all a little bit scary. She looked to the right, a study table carved with beautiful intricate designs of what seemed like roses alive with the moonlight, and in front of it, a chair of the same design. She breathed the cold air in and stepped out of her slippers pretending it was glass, pretending that she was someone important, someone who deserved this soft red carpeted floor that brushed her feet. She rushed to the balcony on to the bed’s left slowly turned the gold painted knobs of the grand door and felt the night air drift across the room, her room, a princess’s room. She closed her eyes shut. She inhaled the scent of her cheap perfume filling her room, loving every moment of it, closing her eyes tight smiling as big as she could.

The door suddenly creaked and closed behind her. She opened her eyes with a start; she knew exactly where she was. She spun towards her groom. He is there, in his suit staring at her with hungry eyes. She closed her eyes and listened to the soul inside of her.
She called out to her mistress, her goddess, her lover.

She drops from the black clouds. Her blue eyes ablaze - it seems. It glowed. Her long fine white hair flowing from her hood like waves floating with the wind. It slapped parts of her smoothened face and perfectly shaped lips that like her eyes stood out.