Madwoman
‘I think I could rule the world.’
Doom carries my hand under the tablecloth covering the ugly yellow, plastic table. A business conference. My hands get clammy but he doesn’t let go. A waitress in a starched white dress approaches me.
“Refill, hon?”
“No, thank you. Just get me a muffin. Any kind works.” Smiled nervously at her, hoping she’d ignore my tremulous, chubby fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“Sure thing!” A fake, chirpy smile. More of a grimace, really.
‘And now I’m gone.’
Liquid anxiety pools into my flesh, purifying the positivity. Doom approves with a quick nod. He straddles me now and I struggle to breathe.
It’s going badly. I never should’ve trusted Danav to present.
Oh. Oh no. The president yawned.
‘Revolution ballroom, cosmic hymns.’
My breaths waltz with each other as I whisper a hymn to Kali, mic muted.
This is going awful. Damage control? How? Easily forfeited a good deal. I just want to go home.
A football team playing rugby within my gut.
‘The great American dream.’ I scoff.
A folk tune blares in my ears. Wish I could roll it on my tongue, chasing the high even as it dissolves. Telling myself it’d all be a little too much. I’m a man. You make me a man, now directly staring at Kalikeye. Take off the mask, author. Enough is enough.
Focus on Danav, Anyaya.
I blink and the meeting’s over. Shadows pull off a gloom that I’m jealous of. Is it driving you away? Never knowing what I’d say? Say no more. I promise you this, my dear- I see you. My heart is yours.
NO! Doom disappears. I was wrong. Come back. I won’t let you down. I say, oh, and cry out. I see stars when I close my eyes. And now I see them even as I’m alive. Oh God, I’m alive.
The phone rings out an annoying tune.
“I think it went well. What do you think, man?”
I hang up. I’ve got to take the last train. Nothing to do. Only my mind to keep me company. Type an email to Carshair’s. Nothing left to lose.
Thoughts drift to her. Why does she love me only when I’m in front of her? It’s like she exists but only in my mind. Text her? Nothing left to lose. Sleep instead.
When I dream, my nightmares roam the lush grounds freely, predators, damn them to hell. They’re calling me to sleep with them, be consumed by them, Can it. Stop. Turn back. Don’t trust strangers in your own mind. I am a stranger in my own mind. Worry that I’m just docking in this ocean of gasoline. Take a dip. Light me on fire.
Take it back, I don’t need this melancholia. Yellow stains on the train booth’s seat. Brain match. Look out the window. Trailing behind me- galaxies. Too much required of me.
Guitar picking. No use glancing back. Close my eyes once more. Wrap myself in kerosene and immerse in the burn. Eleven minutes and I’m home.
Sitting alone, always by myself, forever staring into smoke. The opacity of the gas makes me lose my mind. Nina Hagen’s Cosmic Shiva on loop on Spotify. Feel like a madwoman myself.
You’re a man, Anyaya.
And you made me one. I didn’t ask for this.
Am I supposed to apologise?
I’m a woman in disguise.
Oh, yay. Thrumming all the way, drills itself into my chest. Don’t understand it but I kneel and worship. Good, good. Feelings arise like the arch we fell in love under in the cocooning warmth of summer. All the feelings we hold for each other. Good, good. Oh, Lytra. Don’t forget it as we dance to the radio. Don’t ever, ever go. Please.
I imagine her in that pastel yellow wallpapered room, dancing away- a sunflower in full bloom. Good, good feelings.
I used to rule the world. Seasons change, crowns fall and now I reach out for Doom- disperses into mist. Do this yourself, the lonely bells I hear ringing. Never ruled the world. Fantasy. Eyes heavy lidded, cholesterol and viscous fat pulsating under the beating drums.
Missionaries knock on the door.
Creaking, swings open.
“Rip apart my soul, I’m navigating the world without a compass.” Then it hit me and I hurled the mansions of my mind, brick by brick. Precision.
Fearful faces of the teen whites. Crosses made across their bosoms. I stare at the driveway, a chill going through my bones as I know I can feel his presence. Painted yellow, arms wrap around my waist, ensuring the words don’t sting and I’ve got every base comfort.
“The birds don’t sing in this part of the house. Remember when I was lost? You made sure I was shown love. Now, you’ll see.”
“Anyaya, are you okay?” I imagined her twisting her frock in nervousness.
“It wasn’t fresh, the cheese.” I rasped.
“W-what?”
“You made my day. Thank you.” Click the red button.
Grinning to myself. Lytra, my love. I’d do anything for her.
Time slips away. My core vibrates with malice. Decapitated neck, blood spraying everywhere. I cackle and open my mouth, relishing the crimson rain.
“That’s when I fell for you.” She told me once, as we recounted the murder of her father with glee.
Holding back an avalanche. Gentle piano.
‘Are you that pathetic?’
Staring at the butcher knife in my hands.
Clatters to the floor as I flick my wrist.
I want a re-do. Just take one more shot. Lead an even quieter life, get rid of this mind fog. Headache, swollen, pufferfish eyes. Try to forget that we’re both fucking mental. I never wanted to be this way. Ennui. Fatigue.
Help.
Down on the couch, the smell of this air. I hide in the closet. It kills me. God, do you love me? You could never love me. Never attain satisfaction. Rabid hair monkeys. String me up by my wrists, Christmas lighting. I’m such a freak. Take what’s yours, Leave me alone.
Hacking away at my wrist. Swimming pool of blood.
Fuck.
