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Saturday, 25 October 2014


image by life takes crayons

I hit him back. I couldn't believe that my tiny fist had been a wrecking ball in Adrien crux's arrogant features. " you just...." he stumbled back as though in a dazed drunk stupor. Last year we had been face to face, nose to nose, and the knife he prodded near my round stomache, I was not pregnant just larger than the girls he was used to dating. I knew I wasn't as pretty.
" have you lost your mind?" He raised himself to his full height his handsome features mutilated. Swiping the blood from his nostrils. " if I left you,"
" if you left me who would love me right?" I slunk back against the wall, expecting the slaps I was familiar with. It came like the thrash of a whip. My grey eyes tearing as his brown eyes encompassed in shadow. " I stuck by you when nobody else did,"
" you drive them all away," I mumbled the terror still ripe in my throat.
" they weren't the right people for you,"
" I was strange, that's what you said. It's been three years of you were strange, I'm still strange."
" I do love you, you know." I wanted to claw his fucking eyes out. Maybe it was all the self help books I'd been reading lately, having to sneak to my friend Marietta's wedding because he'd had a problem with her, said she was easy despite being hypnotised by her full bosom whenever we spoke. She'd appear in my home shifty in turtlenecks, tying her crow black hair in a neat bun. Adrian's words they don't sting you at the time the way they sport when your alone with thoughts.
 " I see this shit in tv you know," I glanced at the tear streaked windows. The pitta parts of rain begging an escape. " I swore I'd never be one of those girls, they look so fragile, their voices come out like air burps, they walks like nuns and dress up like Muslim wives hiding everything."
"Is it the Afro, you can put it back in," he defended.
"it's not up to you, " I swallowed hard " I packed your stuff two days ago, it's in the downstairs cupboard."
" I unpacked it." he challenged his voice now smoothe and soothing.
" This isn't the man I met at the fair that day, " I ran my hands through my cornrows, " I think he lives in my head." No he didn't, but after the lies, being on trial with family and those who i was accustomed to, maybe he did. Was i asking for perfection? Adrien was a law student, dapper, handsome, girls oohed when he walked past the halls, i ahhed when we had our first conversation. The worst thing was, i remembered exactly what he'd said, those first few words in that deep chocolate voice. " I like eclairs,"  it was a strange sentence to open with. " I dont eat them, i just buy them for pretty girls like you." I, Annabella Ramone was not used to the word pretty in association with me. My sister was she had the looks, yet i had befriended every single book in the library to hide from the shallow world of men. " I wouldn't call myself pretty," i announced honestly, his smile already having an effect. " Just lonely enough to need a companion to things like Gala's, museums, and Fredericko Mustiq's concerto at Prism palace. " Much had changed since that day, i had changed, and as i grabbed the remnance of my belongings from the narrow sitting room, i finally confessed i hadn't wanted to. He wouldn't beg. Not for me i was too plain for him, but the calls would come later on in that week, or as the months followed, as i edged closer to my freedom. For i wasn't plain, i had come to realise, i was familiar, and he was too weak to let go, incase a better man got things right. I shoved my suitcase into the car, i paused pondering only for a minute before diving in, pressing down on the clutch and driving to my freedom. Once again i owned myself, and i wasnt claimed by a man's weakness or his jealousy. Somehow in his warped delusions i belonged to him, and now i knew i could never belong to anyone. I took out the hair band letting my hair fly with the wildness he hated, ignored the stone burried in my stomach and put the car into gear.

Chrissys love

image from pinterest

" it's because he loves you that he left," I swept my armada curls, metal and ink behind the curve of a pointed lobe. I wanted to fight her, my mother for not being honest to herself. For allowing him to tiptoe into the house his scent staining a map I had suddenly begun to figure out.
" he'll be back again," her fudge tinted eyes lit like candles. " How does someone love you so much they leave, "
" grown ups need space." we were on the edge of my bed, a bunk bed that once invited companions. I glared hard face at the pis coloured walls, once I danced in this room, now it was yellow and somehow it was blue. The scent of candle wax and gin hung in the air like a veil. Mother had rouge lipstick on. Mother did this to pep herself up Everytime he left because once upon a time she'd been told my father was too pretty for her, that once upon a time stayed. It dug into her confidence scraping the gleam out of her eyes as young girls with glowing skin, and pert buttocks strolled by our street. " gulf gulf is still here."
"I thought I'd fry her soon enough but the way she moves in that tank, " she would now say the movements of a multicoloured fish in a crowded yet isolated tank was like Mozart.
" your beautiful you know, enough not to open doors for strange men,"
She clamped skinny hands on my chin " he's not a stranger he's your father."
My mother reminded me of an old Picasso copy cat is seen in dalton market, buoyant with colour, jagged edge and sharp features. Her nose was strong enough to be a hacksaw, lips politely pulsed, hair as red as a policemans siren, but she was beautiful to me. For I knew her smell, and her smell wasn't tobacco, marijuana or the selfish stamp of bailey.
" let's look through the album again," I. Piped wanting her to feel better. My words sounded blocky to me in my stiletto tone. She needed to remember her youth, and the ghost of her laughter still echoed within the walls. " Chrissy, " she gulped. " your sixteen you know little of what love really is. Don't change the locks on him again okay?" I nodded the lie apparent only to me.
I would change them as soon as the sky lit orange, and the nightingale slept soundly in her nest.

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

Renee Zellwegger plastic surgery

I understand growing up and needing to upgrade your image but what renee Zellwegger has done, i believe will ultimately cost her her career. She was beautiful before. Absolutely stunning. Those eyes that sparkled those apple cheeks, she had that girl next door look and she would have grown into that woman next door look. Shes unrecognizable. I know her industry is tough, but we want to see the real Renee, the face we recognise, she was an asset to the film industry, that girl next door look really worked. Now she looks like something of real housewives, Renee....this is not happiness. What message is she sending to women her age and young girls.

Tuesday, 21 October 2014


Slinky eyes
and bedroom talk
All our fears
They take a walk
Shadowed corners
Private Scapes
From this trap
Ones no escape
You are self
and self as I
My morning juice
My lullabye

Su Hill: Short story

image from

"Your crazy you know that, this is acid rock hardcore shit it eats you." I shrugged at Adrien Molex, swiped playfully at his fringe. We were sitting on the highest precipice of nature's den, a place perfect for climbers.
"Your really gonna do this to beat her."
"I'd do anything to beat that fucking," His malteser eyes swallowed me, a thick finger pressed against my pulsing mouth. We were alive together. Fire in our veins, alcohol drowning our curling Oesophogus. Danger on the tongue. The bitch we were talking about was my twin sister Rhia. He was banging her, because that's how men communicate with her immaculate features, and slender shape. Then when he knocked on our door, the third time, there was a moment, like a bubble had swallowed us and we were in our hub. " It's ridiculous to think a man like you could love someone like her," i'd seethed internally.My eyes sparked with jealous rage, and then an orgasm of calm exploded as he placed a hand gently on my square shoulders. Millitant yet terrified of the world outside.
"I didn't know Rhia had a twin, she's very beautiful," funnily enough id always known i wasnt. It was like god had picked the petals of mothers womb, remaining was me, a shapeless stem. Lean enough to be gangly, short spiky hair which never agreed with order or hairbrushes. One kid once said i was deformed in comparison to my sister. It bit me at the time, and then i began to accept it. " Rhia looks latino, Spanish,is she mixed?" Stupid questions, stupid strangers asked. It sucked so hard being compared to my glamorous twin. At schools, girls ran their hands seductively through her endless main of wild, curly hair. Stubbornly she had managed to grow it to near her ankles. Rhia Evans looked like a painting, and i the younger twin looked more ....regular. I hated that. I never felt regular , i felt odd in my skin, like i belonged in a spaceship somewhere, martians please invite me.
"You can take the first hit," He flashed a dimpled smile waving hands appart,
"No way, i like being smart. These are the freezers, he scanned the almost empty moss green cliffs.
" I really want to kiss you right now, make you come to your senses,"
"it's a trip, i need a trip, people lean in when she utters a sentence, hungry for her adventures," i sighed, " im the salad or the green peas the child plays with on his plate. Lena the troublesome one. \Lena the meth head, and lena the product of an artist who barely came to completion. I pulled the white stick to my lips, sucking it in as it entered my chest, and teased in like a belly dancer. suddenly i felt a sharp prick in my lungs, fire and heat , i began coughing dramatically choking as i grappled for air. My eyes bulged, i could feel the veins popping out, it felt as though my body was preparing to shatter into a million pieces."what is this?"
I spat nervously, panic strangling my every breath. " People aren't what you assume."
"What is this?" I put my hands to my throat trying to cough out its contents.
"Something unpredictable. Your sister is waiting for me over there," he pointed a finger at curdwells narrow street. " It will look like you committed suicide."

Monday, 13 October 2014

The Musk

Kissing dust
The one i trust
i never showed you
the mess of us
how when you lean
we  scatter
Sherbet Kisses
 this mirage
says harps just dont care
Though hands are thick and locked like chains
Find me in the arc near your shadow
Preparing the tedium
Of your tomorrow
Wiping windows
sprawled out on desk
an itching flesh
It needs caressing
Kissing dust
This self i love
this you
i trust
for fingers do not
own the musk.

Let me in

Soul brother
systems ink
Brain is scrambled these
thoughts i think
I catapult myself
into the hub
of your arms
thick and strong
you are the branches
Where Tree whispers
Fish Calypso
in this Ocean dew
I have seen
Yet am blind
to the worst of you
With each tiptoe
Fingers tiptoe across your skin
Mr Chocolate
let me in