It's Friday

It's Friday
By Amberly A. M. Oosthuizen

Alice awoke with a start. She had another nightmarish dream. As she tried to control her breathing, she could help but look at the clock.

3:30 in the morning, again. Same dream again. People chasing her with knives, Chelsea grins stitched across their faces. Like that Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode that Jake dared her to watch. That was when he was still living and not six feet underground. That was before she found him holding an gun to his throat, brain matter everywhere. Kurt Cobain style.

She lay in the dark for a while, then switched on her bedside lamp. 
As she got up she looked at the photo of her and Jake. They were smiling, happy. 

She walked quietly to the bathroom and took a deep breath. She reached into her pyjama top and pulled out the pocket knife. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed before driving her through her flesh.

The date was Friday the 13th,
For the last time...

© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen

Ginger

Ginger

By Amberly A. M. Oosthuizen

He thought that ginger haired people were not very attractive. He thought the biscuits were, but not the people. Except that one special lady...

Her skin was a translucent ivory and her hair was more auburn than ginger, as it was the opposite way in her early years of life. Years when she still knew the taste of wine, the look of the eternal sunrise and the sound of the larks singing in the tree branches.

She looked ethereally beautiful in black and stalked the nightclubs for him,

Devouring others as she went.

A sultry vixen of the night...

  
© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen

The Island

The Island
By Amberly A. M. Oosthuizen

Anne screamed. The lucious tropical plants were beginning to melt into vicous black tar. She felt the ground beneath her dirty, bare feet begin to shake. She looked down, hesitantly, at the cracks into the earth beneath her. She took a breath, inhaling sulfur and chlorine and then the earth swallowed her whole.

She cried out as she fell into the opaque abyss. Suddenly the fall stopped and she hit her head on a large, brown rock.

As she drifted in and out of conciousness, a dozy, purple mist started to rise. The mist pulled Anne off the slimy ground and carried her into a giant hand carved out of the rock face. It then dropped her into the clammy ochre palm.

A vociferous man was operating the hand and as Anne awoke, she could feel it clamping down on her, squeezing the life out of every pore...

 She tried to Ameliorate the situation and she fell through the space between the fingers, straight into oblivion; where she was vivisected into an infinite amount...

Caution: desire will swallow you whole like the island.

© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen

Untitled

Untitled
By Amberly A. M. Oosthuizen

The rain is pelting down
I stand in it, soaking
Nothing matters anymore

I'd slit myself,
But the blood would wash away
I'd shoot myself,
but the matter would run away

The sun would come out
But not today
and my sopping body starts 
to convulse

I want to scream but - 
My voice has been stripped away...

My fears subside
as they pull me inside
and push me into a hot shower

But I feel like I'm nothing,
Like I'm invisible

© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen 2014

The Beast

The Beast
By Amberly A.M. Oosthuizen

In the dark of the night,
awakens he...
A man of ill proportion.
A knife through your 'lover's' heart
But she was not your lover...

His eyes are crystallised black
and the Devil lies within
He wears no heart on his sleeve
He does not smile tentatively at the world...

But the fact is:
There are no demons or monsters,
Only humans with dark souls
Who never care
Or say a word...

The Devil is beautiful
She's looked into his eyes,
The cadaver lying on the metal table...

© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen 2014

The Melancholy

The Melancholy

By Amberly A. M. Oosthuizen

When I was young

Children would play with me.

The sky was blue

and my heart was still on my sleeve...

When I was young,

I was carefree,

I pushed boundaries,

I was filled with defiance...

When I was old,

My heart had shattered,

The air was cold 

Nothing really mattered

and the clouds were grey...

When I was old

My joints would creek

I would stare at the walls

in sombre silence...

When I reached the end,

My teeth chattered

My joints needed oiling

and I couldn't speak...

When I reached the end,

The houses shook

The tea was bitter

and I was hollow

Now I am dead

and my life was wasted...

"Oh the ironic melancholy"

© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen 2014

Misunderstood

Misunderstood
By Amberly A.M. Oosthuizen

A boy,
In my dreams
In his mind
Far away...

He's trapped in an endless cocoon of engulfing thoughts and feelings.
I've seen this boy,
In a man's eyes
Long ago when the sky was still clear,

Inside the cocoon,
The boy screams and cries 
From the loss he has suffered 
And the pain he has caused,

The man , however, believes he can't feel the boy's screams
And it seems to the naked eye that he is cold and harsh.

But I have seen that boy 
And he will die inside the man
Like the embers of the fire,
Like the hope in my fragile, breaking heart....

© Amberly A. M.Oosthuizen 2014