Alien (TW)   1 comment

Trigger warning – this post contains violent imagery that some may find disturbing.

I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
– Emily Dickinson

There are times in my life that the two lines above resonate for me, despite my utter hatred of all things Emily Dickinson.

(And, of course, there’s the fact that the entirety of the poem is less about feeling like a nobody and more about the fact that crowing about how wonderful you are is tiresome…but I digress.  This is not the time for analysis of poetry.)

There are times when I feel like nobody, or when I mimic nobody quite well.  Other times, well, I look inside myself and I am monstrous.  I am teeth and claws and slavering jaws and hard shelled with a scorpion tail.  I am pharyngeal jaws and countless hunger and the thing that hides under the bed.  I am Alien, in every sense of the word, and just fortunate, I think, that my outsides don’t match my insides.  The only way to really see how I stand out as other is to live inside me…and that’s not going to happen unless you’re a bacterium, or a virus.

Or a parasite.

Sometimes, I look at my childhood and how I came to adulthood and I realize the potential within me could grow in any direction – I could be nurturing and do what is expected, or I could burst out of my own chest and take off in a careening way, bouncing off walls, until I found an air duct to hide in and bide my time.  I imagine hiding, in the dark, waiting to shed my skin and get bigger and stronger.  I imagine rending those who stand against me, with razor-sharp words or tooth and claw.  I can cut them down to size.  I want to cut them down to size.

I dream of racks and the POP of dislocating joints, of flechettes and the slow drip, of a thousand million ways to flay someone and leave scars on soul, not skin.  I dream of fear, and it tastes like copper pennies.  I dream of flame and it burns blue-hot, or scalding wax on skin in perfect circles.

And…I do nothing.  I trace the dotted lines and queue up and hold my tongue and say nice things and it tastes like poison.  I do what I must and the reasons are all good ones.

I bide my time.  I wait.

 

 

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One response to “Alien (TW)

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  1. Pingback: 30 Days of Scent – Day Nine – Alien Essence Absolue by Thierry Mugler | Eating Monsters

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