Narcissism Letter

I’m about to scream “THIEF!” but then I can see her ridiculously beautiful face. Rather than screaming the awful thing she is doing, I catch her hand and guide her below a tree.

She is angry

Her pride as a thief shattered

I preach her, “You can’t. You’re too beautiful to be an awful person.”

She starts struggling and kicking but I am stronger. So I take her to my home, you can’t let a  beautiful maiden astray in thiefing path.

I’m taming her everyday.

I’m praying for her.

I show her normal life.

And I also fell on my knee everyday, “would you like to marry me?”

Each rejection making me feeling closer to her, until this day she cut my cheek so deep, I can feel blood dripping my gum. She say, “how can I Show you that I don’t love you and I’ll always be a thief?”

I can see her taking my precious chest with her, but I know it is so hard for her to leave, because I swear I can hear her sobbing as she leaving my door.

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Abstract Painting

I got bored blogging, but I also got Friday Fiction-ing. Below is the imagination from  Ted’s photo.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Abstract Painting

I’ve been in danger of lead poisioning for 12 years. I can’t afford bagel, I had only one shirt, I was thrown from street to street, I was hated, source of any critics. If it isn’t imagining my Muse, life sure is unbearable.

I am smiling, this spatial giant mushroom lining so lively on my canvas. I can’t wait to have it finished, I’ll have another million dollar.

Don’t worry, Muse. You need another luxury home, right? I’ll give you one with expensive car, watch, perfume, heel, decor, food in it. Like the last time you suddenly come to me after my first acknowledged painting, after you kicking my ribs for 12 years, I’ll always put you in the first place.

Frame by Frame

A dream when a second of movement always on then off,
Then on,
A poetic movement of a slow dance.
Shawl striking,
Missing frames casting dramatic sequences,
I too, feeling composure.

The dancer closing her eyes,
Long hair swirling a circle,
Missing frames making her dancing longer.

She is dancing without music,
On a room with silence,
Maybe the music I hear was from her body breaching the air.

Majestic,
Magenta,
I forgot how to name any color.
This missing frames couldn’t be fixed with any mind,
So I can only enjoy the missing seconds and frames.

Running Naked

You’re so tired and done,
Logic keep tingling and calming you, just take a nice bath.
Then you see your reflection on the bathroom,
Your bareskin
Thin skin exposing collar bone
With a tired face and eye bags
You are naked
And powerless
The bad news is
That is the real you
Powerless
Useless
Easily getting soaked

So you cry

What else can you do.

Divide Me

© the reclining gentleman
© the reclining gentleman

Bridge.

Railing.

River.

Those words, who ever thought that as a divider?

Unwanted and wanted, mighty and slave, garbage disposal. Because I need to be sure, watching a drowning baby on the river aren’t cruel at all.

Because, unwanted things better go to the unwanted zone.

Because, when your drunken father made love with you, your baby born in unwanted shape.

When you outnumbered, they did the what the drunken father did, then they grouped your baby as the unwanted.

Hand reaching the railing, foot stepping it, hand expanding, balancing, crying and feeling the breeze : I’m joining the unwanted zone.


Written for another fun weekly prompt by Rochelle. Join the 100 word awesome flash.

P.S. photo by the reclining gentleman

Senseless

I can see a lustful spirit across my bed.

And this is a dream about its actual body.

Looking down, its fist on its cheek, crying.

Then it realize my existence, on a small room, looking at my eyes but then those eyes turned Red,

Black,

Blowing up,

Eyes blasting along with its body.

Wind roughly blowing my long hair.

His remains of flesh moving, a pale white body forming.

I can do nothing but falling in love.

-R.N.


Read A Ghostly Love In case those sentences haunting you ;;)

A Ghostly Love

You are quite, white, and cold.
You are scrawling and you are a ghost.
I know where you usually sits,
It’s on the corner, I know you stares at me from the corner.
Accept your reality please,

You are a bodiless pale creature.

I know you only eats sweet things,
How is it you have a thin body.
Kiss my lips,
Kiss it
Kiss it as rough as you can,
So I can feel the transparent body of yours.
Oh I love you though you have the minimum opacity
I love you no matter how black and white you were.
Don’t be shy or terrified,
You have experienced death, aren’t you?
Prepare for a Ghost-Human love story.