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the lie - don paterson

As was my custom, I’d risen a full hour  before the house had woken to make sure that everything was in order with The Lie, his drip changed and his shackles all secure. I was by then so practiced in this chore I’d counted maybe thirteen years or more since last I’d felt the urge to meet his eye. Such, I liked to think, was our rapport. I was at full stretch to test some ligature when I must have caught a ragged thread, and tore  his gag away; though as he made no cry, I kept on with my checking as before. Why do you call me The Lie? he said. I swore: it was a child’s voice. I looked up from the floor. The dark had turned his eyes to milk and sky and his arms and legs were all one scarlet sore. He was a boy of maybe three or four. His straps and chains were all the things he wore. Knowing I could make him no reply I took the gag before he could say more and put it back as tight as it would tie  and locked the door and locked the door and locked the door

@madchen

Mar 17, 2024

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Reticular, vermicular

Tightly drawn smiles Loosely fitted Scrubbing the drain, circling it even Settling dust Yearning for movement A force of nature An action plan, a family man Laying down foundations For impersonations Renting down the river, Winding up a creek With two fists Opening my favourite window And forgetting to close it I'm letting the debris in And if bin lorries could tell stories They'd sleep in an unmade bed every night Wednesday morning, mother's warning The man walks his dog Through oppressive heats and violent winds Why can't you do the same? Stop seeking answers And seek a home Stay there, stay away The pegging to clothesline pipeline Against brick walls My balls bounce and fall A pinch and a tuck never hurt much But where do I lay my head at night? How many mistakes Should I contemplate Were the force of nature Blowing out my last birthday candle With a giggle A tightly drawn wiggle A master of mimicry But I know you, I see you Your silk cocoon Never strung for permanence Your writhing In step-by-step conniving will End when you wake To find yourself decaying Stuffed in your rotten beanpod Full of somebody else's shit You never open the window, you see

@flemlord

Jun 23, 2025

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brief nighttime reflection

I’ve spent the whole morning looking for a lost key that would open all the doors. It was like waking up small cuts in the throat, like searching for the past and remembering the pain. Another thing crossed off the list, but was it worth coming back home? Will it help to bang your head against the doors? What we do is shameful, it’s shameful to neglect what we have around Walking back home, I unplugged myself and looked up at the sky. It was 8:34 PM and there were a few stars. I realized the trap - dispersion. I don’t know how long it’s been since I last looked up at the sky - usually, we gaze blankly down, the deepest point of a screen.

@alikelylad

Jan 29, 2025

Top Recs from @Undoubtedly

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"Just like the old days"

Some days I can feel the craving of release, the soft whisper of an old "friend" beckoning me for just one more. Maybe on a thigh, perhaps the abdomen, but never in clear sight. All these places oozing with insecurities, making me think that if I would make one single incision all of these emotions will finally get cut loose.

@Undoubtedly

Mar 15, 2025