May 2018
I don’t believe it that the man made of cheese lives on the moon. Last night he crept into my bed, demanding sausages. “*******”, I said, but he wouldn’t leave. He sat, for the rest of the night, on the edge of my bed. A a pair of glowing binoculars in his sweaty fingers, he stared up at the moon. He does want to go there. He says it must be where he’s from. “There’s no food on the moon.”, I told him, my voice heavy with sleep. He began to cry. I told him to go back to his own bed.
2. I asked the King for permission to leave my bed. He told me “No.”, firmly, so I stayed put. My eyes grew heavy once more, under his spell, and I was back in the grasps of the shadows. They reach through my window in the night, they pull past my curtains and seep slowly into my lungs as I breathe. The King rules the world of the night. I merely beg permission to lay my head to rest. At his feet. I’m not sure this is where I belong, but I can’t sleep any other way.
3. I lost my fairy wings in a duel with a raven. Taken in by the electric silk of his feathers, I fell into an oil well. My fingers coated, I lost my grip. As my heart beat picked up, panic rising through my oesophagus, I gulped down the thick molten lies. Glinting in the sun, I thought it melted gold. Now I have lost my voice, I realise I was just a fool. I have forgotten how to breathe. The raven’s claws pierced through my skin and as my blood merged with the oil, I forgot where I ended and this pain began.
4. I rode on the back of a brown bear. I was cradled in the warm fur during the cold nights, and the strong claws never once broke my skin. I felt safe. I told the bear “I have something I need to do” and I tried to leave, just for a few days. The bear grabbed my hair and tore me back. I pleaded for my freedom, and the bear began to wail. Am I indebted to him? Do I owe him my life now that he saved it? Maybe I should return there, to those dark depths once more. At least then he’d know I wasn’t going anywhere.
5. The man made of cheese sits at the end of my bed, again. In his hands are a plate of greasy sausages, bursting with fat. I ask if he wants vegetables, and in between scoffs he sends chunks of cooked meat flying across my clean sheets. I wish he’d listen to me. I told him I didn’t want him here, and yet, here he sits. If I still had my wings, maybe I could fly far from this kingdom of ether. The spirits are up my nose, working their fumes into my brain.
6. The man made of cheese sits, drawing up blue-prints for a catapult. I lie half-awake, waiting to fall into that deep hypnosis. Waiting until I’m cushioned by the suffocating darkness of the night, the only place where I can dream of the real world. If only I could remember how it was that I arrived in this ulterior universe. Send me down another rabbit hole. Maybe I’ll find peace down there.
2. I asked the King for permission to leave my bed. He told me “No.”, firmly, so I stayed put. My eyes grew heavy once more, under his spell, and I was back in the grasps of the shadows. They reach through my window in the night, they pull past my curtains and seep slowly into my lungs as I breathe. The King rules the world of the night. I merely beg permission to lay my head to rest. At his feet. I’m not sure this is where I belong, but I can’t sleep any other way.
3. I lost my fairy wings in a duel with a raven. Taken in by the electric silk of his feathers, I fell into an oil well. My fingers coated, I lost my grip. As my heart beat picked up, panic rising through my oesophagus, I gulped down the thick molten lies. Glinting in the sun, I thought it melted gold. Now I have lost my voice, I realise I was just a fool. I have forgotten how to breathe. The raven’s claws pierced through my skin and as my blood merged with the oil, I forgot where I ended and this pain began.
4. I rode on the back of a brown bear. I was cradled in the warm fur during the cold nights, and the strong claws never once broke my skin. I felt safe. I told the bear “I have something I need to do” and I tried to leave, just for a few days. The bear grabbed my hair and tore me back. I pleaded for my freedom, and the bear began to wail. Am I indebted to him? Do I owe him my life now that he saved it? Maybe I should return there, to those dark depths once more. At least then he’d know I wasn’t going anywhere.
5. The man made of cheese sits at the end of my bed, again. In his hands are a plate of greasy sausages, bursting with fat. I ask if he wants vegetables, and in between scoffs he sends chunks of cooked meat flying across my clean sheets. I wish he’d listen to me. I told him I didn’t want him here, and yet, here he sits. If I still had my wings, maybe I could fly far from this kingdom of ether. The spirits are up my nose, working their fumes into my brain.
6. The man made of cheese sits, drawing up blue-prints for a catapult. I lie half-awake, waiting to fall into that deep hypnosis. Waiting until I’m cushioned by the suffocating darkness of the night, the only place where I can dream of the real world. If only I could remember how it was that I arrived in this ulterior universe. Send me down another rabbit hole. Maybe I’ll find peace down there.
