Two AM.
A sullen wind pulling the pine trees bidding farewell.
Alone, as you can only be among strangers in an asylum, I hear voices from the corners.
Accusing voices of promises broken from the turbulent past.
“You pledged me an orchard, forever sunshine, a velvet sky were you drew stars”
Around my scars the skin is bruised, voices rippling through my muscles. Convincing me to rip my bedsheet, fashioning a rope, tying the noose.
“You’re brave, my love”. she whispers
I still recall her face. Closeness, her breath, that sound of snapping her neck.
So easy, yet so hard.
“You were wrong you know, I always loved you”, she sighs.
So hard, yet so easy.
The noose is soft, like our last embrace, but before blacking out other voices holler:
“Suicide attempt!! “, snapping back into purgatory.
I’m alive to face court, tomorrow, forever.
Vincent van Gogh
Today I host the prosery at dVerse and have used the following line from Taylor Swift’s song Cardigan: “You drew stars around my scars”, as usual the total lenght of my prose is 144 words in total which is the maximum length of the story (making it gross I think)
December 2, 2024
Björn Rudbergs writings 
A viscerally ripping good narration, Björn. One almost wants to feel pity for the murderer, as repugnant as the crime is. Such a great use of the line.
Thank you… it seems like all my stories are those of murder. For me I always feel that being forced to live with your crime is a better punishment than death…
Bjorn, oh how I have missed your stories. You wrote this one just right. Please put it in the special folder.
The story reminds me of the lyrics to the song, “The Long Black Veil.”
I need to read the lyrics of that.. but there was a darkness in Taylor Swift’s lyrics too…
I hope you do. It’s a haunting of another kind but similar dynamics. One of these days, I may read TayTay…
Whoa! I wasn’t expecting that! What a neck-twister!
🥨🥨🥨every story needs a twist
oh this is dark and sorrowful.
much♡love
the world is full of darkness.
woop woop with the DVerse!
Thanks
It sounds like everyone is broken and bruised in this story.
Indeed… lots of darkness now in November.
So dark, so intimate and sends a shiver up my spine. Beautifully written darkness.
Darkness works for me
I love the way you broke up the sentence to give it a twist. There is a darkness lingering between the words. You do write dark poetry well.
I am so glad it’s fiction
The visceral imagery and emotion you evoke never ceases to amaze me. After the last few I’ve heard, I expected something sensual, considering the given line. This was a surprise- jarring, intimate in a very dark way. Love how you broke up the line.
I always try to break up the line to maybe give another twist to the story… though the scars is actually not so sensual I think.
Oh gross indeed, and I notice you snapped the neck of Taylor’s swift words (actually they were rather lingering to me) at a different diad from where I broke her mossy velvety chain of meanings and metaphors.
To your (I hope) imaginary subject: Chilling thou art, murderous asylum dweller. Your reprieve at the eleventh hour is as painful to you as the crack of skeletal matter between your creepy fingers….
Oh thank you… and I do feel disgusted for my subject… I hope that he has to relive nights like this forever and ever.
II can’t help but to pity his descent into darkness – recognising my own (hopefully lesser shadows) in his.
Excellently written, Bjorn. It reads like a dark twisted gothic romance.
It is both romantic and at the same one that could be about domestic abuse…
Oh my, Björn! This is fabulous writing. He should live with his deed, not free himself of it. So good.
He will live with it… and his nights will be terrible
A proper punishment. Of course, if he didn’t care, it would not keep him awake at night.
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Yes, he must face himself now forever, a chilling story. I’m also captivated by the phrase – sullen wind.