I wrote this a while ago back in my hitRECord phase...or CRAZE is perhaps a better word. I hope you enjoy it.
Blows fall, raining from the canopy of hands above his head. They want to kill him because his beauty frightens them. They want to fill him with so much pain that he never bothers to smile again. They hate him.
Bruises bloom across his skin, and even they are beautiful. His skin swells, blazing red then deeper. It is the purple black of a starless sky. The moisture in his eyes brings the promise of rain to drought depleted souls.
Still the blows fall, like rock slides from mountainsides because he will not give them his voice. He will not satiate the fires that feed the flames of their hate.
They give him pain because pain is all they have to give, it is all they know. And in trying to forget they forge another furrow into his skin. They watch the bruises deepen and wait eagerly for the blood pour to begin.
Life spills from him and he smiles. Words, pregnant, promising and rich pour from bruises that became cuts. Words they had been wishing to hear all their lives, but their ears were deafened by their pain and rage.
As the words seeped into the ground life sprang from them, Verdant, vibrant, free, uncontrolled. Life took hold, took root in the ground, took root in all of them and chased the hate away from poisoned minds. Yet still, he gave until all his words were given away.
All his words were drained away to become part of the whole. They in he, he in they all his words were given away. Freely, sweetly. And even their share in the shame of taking this life was beautiful and sweet. Brutal, Painful, Necessary. Complete.
Have you ever done this? Created something and then forgot about it? Or planned something, written something, set something in motion and it just drifted from your memory? When you found it again what did you do with it?
