Deep in the city, on a pavement, I’m lying with my hand on my stomach counting down the heartbeats to hunting grounds. It’s three in the morning and far away, I am sure it’s raining. I am nervous and I want to walk down, along the street, to go astray. To kick stone blocks in your face so you can hear me.
On that livid night, thoughts were slowly dragging to me, one by one, gathered into a hank and suddenly it nestled inside of me, a snake in the chest, an angry adder that bites. Hiding its legs, it has to have them, as fast as it hits. Maybe it was even born with me. Maybe it appeared in the meantime.
Below my back, pulsing of a city merged with mine and I do not know what I did and how I went blind. It smelled nicely, and madness so tightly clung to normal, that it looked good, more than great. Then I mixed them easily and I replaced truth with lies, believing that what I am doing is quite logical. Soon, I felt a tingling sensation all over my body, that germ inside of me started to… And inside of you, why are you playing dumb?! So easily it came floating and at first it picks and than hits, knocks you on the ground, it insults you and spits, holding your throat and it feels good while it’s there, while in second you lose your soul, so you pretend that you repent! What is it, it all sounds so familiar? So, it began then, a dragon to emerge from the womb and with a warm hand on the neck to whisper into my ear: weak are the loved ones, weak, hit, wound, hurt, do not stop, be. Sticky flickering crawled into my bones and I could not sit still. Due to the late screeching of brakes, the dragon gripped me into a strong hold and it didn’t let me go, reciting the words from the depth with my lips that after just whir on the surface and I do not know where it found them and how were they created inside of me. Delicious and nutritious, it gave me the muscles to stand up, to bite, it rubbed me with its poison and proceeded on its own, liberated, irrevocable, indestructible.
A strong crack, a storm is coming and, as always, morning replaces the night. On the walls of the city, I hear the bustle while traffic lights change colours: red, yellow, green, red, yellow, green… I stand on the asphalt with my arms open, spat with my own poison, sacrificed for the wrong moment, I do not know whether it is me or the animal. To sprinkle the ground I command: “Fall!” and soon large drops burst on the asphalt. Can rain wash me?
And what do you think?
(written on a creative course class on a theme “Anger” with a guidances of prof. Mihajlo Pantic)