A Fly on the Moon
A short story about transformation. Rebirth.
SEP 29, 2024
The psalms I serenade with myself, to myself. They hold nothing other than quiet murmurs, the underbrush of ancestral winds. Alone in the echos of this distant dream. I sing to myself, and I scream alone at night, here where there is nothing but ash and memory. A psalm I sing for the god I pray to holds a glory of my pain, and the empty desire of a crooked anguish. The sickness in the back of my throat is nothing compared to this illness of mental oblivion, god forbid you wake up. Something, anything. A futile attempt to stop a snake from shedding its own skin. I see your nakedness and it brings a resounding sense of humanness, to that of which I can only applaud—every inch of your humanness is glory, yet a refusal to admit I am the same becomes you. And so you are still to me: a crooked monster, as I am to you: such crooked kin.
My heart cannot take any more of the breaking.
These nails are sharp and my teeth have grown long, like the tiger who catches its prey. This body has covered itself, naked and free. I run alongside the trees in this forest of oblivion and I find myself desperately searching for a kinship, another soul to run with. Desperately I run and I search, as fast as lightning, seeing trees flash past me. Looking up into the sky, an ocean of mystery stings my eyes, I wonder what is this magic? I cannot remember myself, my humanness. Where have I gone? Running fast and faster, I catch up to the pack. They do not know yet, this is all that I am.
I woke this morning unsure of where I was, completely naked, cold and in a bed of fur. A hole had been dug into the sand, I assumed this is where I had slept. It felt like a dream, the running and the moon. A full moon. Am I dead? I thought.
Walking back home wasn’t so bad. Through the forest and following a line in the woods, I managed to find familiar trees. These trees tended my echos, like I could hear their breathing as I took each step. YahhhhH—WHhhhhh, mmmm. Home you will be soon. I promise you my dear.
In our souls few find the night, tonight we find the night. In search of our holy glory, the itch that makes our skin crawl, the arch that fights through the day, just to get through to the night, the owl that begs for nonsense. ALLTHESENSE.
I won’t work for three days. I am running into the woods. As far as the eyes will bring me. As far as my legs will carry me. Until my last breath, I will follow this god, to the end of my days.
As high as I am, I have crawled my way inside of the moon, into my mental eyes. My fore eyes. Foreeyesfoureyes. Chaos in the distance, this dissonance is fleeting, as I am creating, inside and out, my bods sings to me and I become this beast, my skin goes backwards and my eyes come forward.
Come forward. My elements, my nature, I love you, my darlings. EVERY ATOM—DIVINE.
How long has it been? How long will we survive. I feel you, in my distance, I need you in my life, I need your presence, beside me as I write. Come to me, singing. I love you forever, I cannot be fleeting.
I feel myself come back to life, inside of this vessel, ever-changing. I need to brush my teeth. Again I have awoken from a sweat soaked dream. I smell like a dog. All that I am is animal, all that I am is divine. Have I lost control? Am I still capable of this life? Will I survive? Will we survive?
What does it mean if I live or die? What can I do to create true and lasting life? How will I dream tonight? The devil taunts me and I scoff and shove dirt in the idea. But I know it lurks. I do not want it. Silence.
Haven’t I already met my love? The face of truth? I need no more, I need it not. I can survive on my own if that’s what I am meant to. I do not need you. When will I meet my pack? I do not need you? When will I meet my pack? My true? Where is my tribe?
Where I am, here I am! Hello, a voice inside my head, the cat in the windowsill, my desperate lurking attention cunt. the candle I have burning still, the ghosts that roam the walls, the flies that bounce off of them all. Here we are! DEATH. Rebirth.
Softer, born into this world, easier this time. Here I go again, into the night. You belong in the wild. And so do I. My throat is dry and I am so aroused. I cling to these facets and empty dreams like I cling to the skin on my back. I feel this deeply, A mother wound. I can let go. I can be alone.
And so I am. A lone wolf.
