The Inner Demon by Dusty Krauter

Dear readers,

I’d like to introduce this piece as a guest post on my blog. I know that you will enjoy this amazing work by Dusty Krauter.

 

I stare at the same face. Always going the same insane pace. With an endless disgusting taste of what a waste I have become by sitting stagnantly in a non moving place. The words finally come out with no doubt as to what I have been all about and will stand my ground in my choice of route. Washing away the days pain with absolutely nothing to gain and knowing the same never-ending cycle of my sinister fame has brought clarity of the shame my name has easily taken on from my own disdain. A constant fucking reminder of what my slowing ticking timer holds over my obsessive and sick desire to end my life with the resemblance of a chaotic fire. While knowing that my heart couldn’t take the weight of trying to get any higher and finally said DAMN. Fuck you I’m tired. Looking in the mirror there is no peace from my easy on the eye’s exterior because people can’t see the rotting of my very own interior from an endless reflection saying I’m only capable of being inferior. As my days continue to fade and I accept the choice of how I get paid I suffer from my own mind and give zero fucks about my loss of precious time.Take a walk through my thoughts and realize I’m not just distraught I’ve become undeniably computerized like a fucking robot. Now I would like to see you try to live the lie of a 20 yr old girl whose eyes mesmerize and hide true despise of her own self inside but can only see her reality of the demon she hides. Wondering if she will ever be more than just some disguise. Could she ever hide something that shows up at the end of all her roads and stings painfully as she let’s her soul go? She questions if it’s really easier with out a second thought or if she should try to take that one in million shot. So she lays down the law once and for all while praying to a distant god that she used to believe would catch her every fall and her something in herself that she couldn’t deny of a reason to not be in a constant awe. He hand chose her every flaw that were once a reason to say fuck it all until one day she says so what if I stumble and fall its something we didn’t learn to suddenly do we couldn’t walk before we had to learn to crawl it was an obstacle to teach us how to fall.

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Before I’m Gone

So brightly do you shine, so sweetly you do smile. Handsome man who will never know me, never regard me or even sense my presence. Before there was you, I’d forgotten how to laugh. I’d forgotten how to care for others, forgotten that life was worthwhile. How cruel is it that my heart loves now that I am forever gone from the world?

Night comes and I dance under the stars, sometimes near where you walk. We will never meet, for I am but a shade. Dead so long that I cannot remember when I died. If I could have but one wish granted to me, I would dance my last with you. Dancing under a moonlit sky and singing to the stars.

Another Light

Against the wind I make my flight, fighting a mighty storm.  My hands outstretched toward that distant, but brightly shining star. Whether it’s my salvation or my doom, I no longer care. If even for a moment, I must lay my hands upon that star. To feel its warmth, to feel it’s very light consume me.

Grand star, so brightly shining in my night sky, help me keep my candle bright. Help me make greater that which keeps the darkness at bay. I will let this storm toss me about so long as it brings me one step closer to that other source of light. My wings cannot be broken, I will not fall from this flight. Oh great star, guide me to your light.

Strange Love

I will myself forward, yet hesitate with each unsteady step. My feet navigate through the blackness—lost. Then I stumble over something large. he wind blows again, carrying with it a foul, metallic stench. I gulp and bend over, my fingers feeling the object beneath me.

It feels soft, pulpy and wet with a dense liquid. I work my hands down the mass at first, stopping when I touch a knee. I realize wet pulpiness must have been a gash on the thigh. I suppress my pounding heart and continue feeling upward. Ribs, breasts, it’s a woman! I can’t help the glimmer of hope I feel for assistance. My elation fades as there is no rise and fall from breath. Still, I slide my hands up to check for a pulse, perhaps she can be revived. Despair and fear invade as my fingers slide into the cavity where her neck should be. It’s gone, her neck is gone and my hands are covered in her blood! Shaking, I force myself to my feet.

Panic kicks in and I run. I tumble over several ther bodies, then collide with a wall—sick and dizzy. My limbs smeared with blood, I continue seeking a way out of this dark hell I’m in. Hopeless. I struggle to recall how I wound up here. Where was I before this?  I remember relaxing in the garden but the memory is vague. It was Mid-morning, I think, and my friends had absconded with me for my birthday weekend.  Geraldine’s cousin Francis owns an estate far out in the country where they’d decided to throw me a party.

Exhaustion sets in and I lean on something that resembles a table.  I begin to sob, my body quivering.  I drift back to Francis’ estate and the party. I’d never met him before and I was nervous.  Geraldine was determined to play a matchmaker and I’d been railing against it for almost a year. She enjoyed exploiting me in my vulnerable circumstances. I was embarrassed by her pity and loathed the way she paraded me about. Like I was some precious pet.

Francis’s demeanor was more sincere than others she’d introduced me to. His smile was warm, inviting, it was genuine. He uttered not a word as he kissed my hand, as though I were a lady in equal standing. Instead, he produced a small notebook from his pocket. There he’d written a question for me, but the memory of what was written remains foggy.

My head pounds and stomach tightens. Then I heave, vomiting half-digested food on the ground. I wipe my lips with the sleeve of my dress, sobbing.

“Hush, now. I’m here.”  The man’s voice is calm when he pets my head.  I retreat, skidding along my own vomit or perhaps blood—I’m not certain.  The back of my head collides with another wall and I struggle to remain conscious. e swings a lantern over my eyes and I see the sinister grin spread across his face.

“I’m pleased you found the gifts I brought you!” He says, studying my hands with excitement.  “I can’t wait to give you the rest of your present, love.  You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this!  But you look tired,” he says, frowning a little. “Rest for now, sweetheart.  You’ll need to be awake for the procedure.”

“So good to see your baby blues staring back at me again.”  He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Now, I’ve anesthetized your entire body so you won’t feel a thingI am certain that by now you’ve noticed that you can’t move either.”  He begins preparing surgical instruments. “Understand that I need to be sure that you won’t move.  This procedure is very delicate and I won’t have you dying.  I love you far too much to lose you and I have worked very hard for this!”   His face contorts in rage before he exhales, regaining composure.

“It took a great deal of time to find just the right ones. They had to be absolute perfection, I could accept nothing less for your gift. When Geraldine told me that the fever took your sweet voice some years past, my heart stopped. So, of course, when she inquired about having your party here, I couldn’t refuse! All I could think of was you and how I could restore to you what you had lost.”  This man has clearly lost his mind. “My hands got quite dirty in the endeavor.” His eyebrow raises, a proud smirk gracing his lips.

He lifts my chin toward the ceiling and straps it in place.  His burning gaze turns to my body and I know his hand is running over me.  Thank God that I can’t feel his touch! My greatest hope now is that his hand will slip while he’s cutting into me and I’ll die.  He smiles, placing the scalpel against my throat. Is he trying to fix me?

“I cannot conceive of sitting in a room full of wonderful conversation and being unable to participate.” A pulling sensation as he begins his incision.  “When this is all over, you’ll thank me.  You will be so very happy…  I promise that you will.  We’ll finish celebrating your birthday, we will all be graced with the silvery sound of your laughter, and then,” he sighs, “at long last I’ll hear your answer.”

 

Shadow and Light

The dark shadow has come again,

He brings heartache, he brings pain.

 I see him looming overhead,

I back away, careful with how I tread.

I try to shake him to no avail,

 I get caught in the roots along my trail.

He gets too close and I get weak,

Things seem hopeless, my future bleak.

In the distance there seems to be a light,

I pick up speed, I take flight.

One lone candle to guide my way.

One small flame to keep the shadow at bay.

Though small, it is bright,

In the darkness, my flickering light.