dione.rutendo

Of subterfuge, intimidation, persecution and perverted justice.

 

This whirlwind world of deadly stakes, cemented in deepest ruthlessness

This underbelly of “service to Crown and Country”.

 

Come into my world, he said. A world of ‘Neither Confirm Nor Deny’;

That catchphrase of old - a bullet and a shield for those placed above the law.

 

Come into my world, he said, the world of the devourer.

 

 

Wilted

 

(For those in the shadows)

 

 

Red roses, they died on the counter

Royal crimson abandoned to fester

Petals withered, they spoke of the unspeakable:

Of wilting promises, blighted black

Of treachery’s rot and death in a kiss -

Of violence in lovemaking.

 

Red roses, they died on the counter

My red-bleeding heart laid on that counter

Burnished to brown, but you didn’t even look back:

Not at the moldered mosses of loss

Nor the terrible terrors of your corrupting…

 

Who brings roses to an execution?

 

Red roses, they died on the counter

Red roses, they were but a killer’s cover.

 

 

Heathcliff You Were Wrong

 

The malignancy of your intimacy

The frustrations in your attentions

That sweeping selfishness of your intentions:

To possess; to obsess

To dismantle; to distress

And though your passions were strong,

Heathcliff, you were so wrong.

 

You were wrong that love is violence

You were wrong that there’s satisfaction in vengeance.

All that you clung to; all that shaped you

Tried to teach me the trauma in the tantalising;

It was supposed to desecrate

Supposed to defile

Supposed to destroy.

 

But, dearest, Heathcliff, you were wrong

Isabella didn’t deserve battery

Catherine didn’t warrant ideation

And Young Cathy shouldn’t have been punished by confinement.

A woman is more than for a man’s ferocity.

 

We don’t want to be threatened or bruised into submission

We don’t want to be put on a pedestal of rabid fantasy

We don’t want to be duped into chaotic shambles labelled as affinity.

 

“Love is patient; love is kind…”

Where there's violence, it’s nothing more than a hangman’s bind.

 

My pain was your gain -

In my pain you were sustained.

Yet no longer will I strain beneath that soul-stain.

 

Heathcliff, in every which way,

You were ever so wrong.

 

Red Wine

 

 

I miss you like I miss a glass of dark red wine

Swirls of richness scintillating to the senses

Fullbodied flames that nullify heaven, earth… existence.

You make me forget my whole life.

 

I miss you like I miss a glass of dark red wine,

Every lap of a kiss, each pour of a caress, and the fiery flow of copulation.

To lose myself in the glow, the warmth, the exquisite pools of pleasure

There is only me. There is only you.

 

I miss you like I miss a glass of dark red wine.

The deeper I drink, the fiercer I thirst - 

Streams surge into lakes, run as rivers, cascade to oceans

And soon I’m drowning.

 

I miss you like I miss a glass of dark red wine;

The retching of excess; the sickness in the bones; the migraine fogs.

That decadent poison.

 

I miss you like I miss a glass of dark red wine;

Two years sober, and counting…