Three corpses lie in front of me. Lighted by the laptop's pale white light of condescending nature. The light, it seems to mock the stiff, bodies that lay there. It was a testament to my impatience, and the unholy bloodlust that I have to seem have developed as of late.

But yet they kept coming. They taunt me.
They want to see how many more I can take before I finally succumb.
It is as if the corpses of their brothers and sisters that I have happily murdered were just mere puppets to test my mettle.

I sit here, the room covered in darkness. My naked upper half remains unguarded, unarmored, laying itself wide open to as if goad my enemies into taking the first strike. But my eyes remain wild and calculating. It darts from left to right, waiting, for that moment when it darts its black figure across the stark whiteness of the computer screen.

*CLAP*
Another body falls on the keyboard of laptop, its quivering frame refusing to give in to the reaper's scythe. But hope is all but extinguished; I have not yet noticed its limp, but shivering body that tries to crawl itself away from its apparent landing spot. It hopes to crawl into some blind spot, recover from the beating that I have given it, and strike at me again in order to devour the fresh blood that lies beneath my skin.

But it is too late.

Good lord.

Truly.

I have lost the touch. Well, almost at any rate.

Here I am, finally inspired to write something because of someone (isn't it always?) and it's going to be a series.

A series of short poems, dedicated to my outings that I had rather recently with someone... should I say, more special than I would ever think of.
My outings with her are not without humour. Every single outing was something funny, and it's always something that I'd regale about in the future with her.

But still.

There is something about her that, goes beyond physical appearance and linguistic skills alone.

I felt.. a connection. Not that telephone line TM punya.

It was a connection that stretched deep. Deep to the very hem of my being. A link, a twine of sorts, materialized thinly, but firm. And if I will it, indestructible.

I could say emotional connection. I could throw in that we have similar interests in nearly everything under the sun, of course.

But those are excuses.

Probably I am feeling things that I haven't felt in the longest time, or never before?
Because here I am sitting in this comfortable chair, dreading thoughts of ever losing her. I couldn't imagine the kind of damage I will suffer, the torture that I will go through in this lifetime, should she ever leaves my sight, my arms, my soul.


Henceforth, after two years not posting anything, here I am posting something that well, probably lame and crass and full of sappy shit.
But.

I want to remember. I never want these thoughts ever leave me because if they do; I will be just a shell, no longer a man.


Dan