The Black Mare (rough Draft)

The iron gates were not there before and the great animal behind it gave me chills. A black mare with a beautiful black mane was pressed against the iron bars, I stepped close to stroke her nose, she flinched a little by my touch. With her hot breath on my face it made a stream of fog in the air. I smiled staring into her murky eyes, it felt too real to be a dream. I wanted to ride her away from this place, away from the pain, just ride the both of us free. Alas the sturdy iron gates were locked tight, with a sigh I sat along the edge of my bed watching the questionable illusion dissipate.

The next day I told my doctor, he gave me an audible groan and scribbled in his black book, "I think we need to up your medication." I fiddled with my hands shaking my head, "But I'm fine, I don't want more meds, why can't you understand." He shifted in his chair looking at me above his glasses "Little girls seeing horse heads coming out of the walls is not fine" looking down he scribbled more into his notes and ripped off a prescription for whatever insane stuff I must take. Standing up I took the prescription out of his hand and stared at him coldy  "Little girls seeing head doctors is not fine", I muttered under my breath. I turned about and out of the office, walking my way back home wondering if It could all have been a dream.

That night I sat up waiting for the mare to return, but all I heard was the drunken stupor of my keeper. His bellowing voice chanting the old sailors tales, I lied down and cried wishing I could runaway. I could have ridden away , rode until I was sore, anything but here. In the sad realisation I knew I would never see that mare again, she left along with my freedom.


© 2012 Crystalina A. Scales

It's a Natural Thing

To be a tree with woodly limbs, I'd reach for the stars and light your way
When daylight breaks, I'd be your shade on a Hot summers day,
All I ask is you water my roots so I can stay,

Your animals may play and climb to the highest branch,
And listen to the wind blowing through my leaves,
Will sing a song near the twilight moon,
to ease you back into your dreams~



© 2012 Crystalina A. Scales

Swimming Eels

Instead of counting sheep , she counts the swimming eels to fall asleep



© 2012 Crystalina A. Scales

The Journal Of Dr. Rine (Rough Draft Sneak Preview)

 7 Oktober 1899
Midnight

It’s midnight and once again my eyes contain a bright awareness about them. Prodigious bloodshed, human carnage. They wonder why I don’t sleep well……the endless taunting. I write this with a false boldness for my hands shake and my head sweats. Something has provoked them, that something is what?.......or is changing...Evolution? is it of the same ?  Perhaps a method of euthanasia- easy death, but for whom? 

8 Oktober 1899

21:00

I've awoken and feel different, like something has filled me, taking place of my soul or perhaps just my mind has gone mad with this lack of sleep. I must try to close my eyes and rest again. 

 9 Oktober 1899
4:00

They surrounded the room, so many of them, it was more then I ever imagined. Their aurora seemed needful if not unstable.  The vision ...or dream was blurred with blobs of darkness seated in a circle around me. My sheets are tangled in what fright I had through the night. 

9 Oktober 1899 

7:00

I just have ran a bath to cool down my fears, the water soaking into my skin stimulated an immense pain. I've manage to glance in the mirror and find my back bloody with claw marks... and other queer markings. Where did these come from ? Perhaps I've done them in my sleep...thou it seems an area impossible to reach. I suppose these nights have given me more than just dreams and the times asleep are like a deadly trance.

© 2010 Crystalina Scales

The Snow Queen

~His kisses warm the cold that seeps into my heart, Alas I fear I may have frozen his.~






© 2010 Crystalina Scales

The Willow Tree

When standing among its roots, gazing above to it high trunk. The branches spreading further to the top, makes one wonder if it will reach the heavens. Though this tree weeps before it's woodly limbs can touch the clouds. It's beauty of life and sadness will always remain a reminder of the Dear One buried below. Her soul is one with the Willow and as long as the tree lives she shall ever be immortal.


© 2011 Crystalina A. Scales

The Siren

 I walk amongst them dancing along the times and memories of halted growth, pretending or rather merely tolerating their presence. It never fails me to lose the patience and precisions of their ways with dealing. I become ill, faint, weakened by such efforts to maintain within the living and breathing of human society.

The creature I’ve become and the beast you know I truly am, can no longer be separated by these foolish wants and desires of normality.

and thoughts grow into fear of hate, fear of love, fear for the other.

I never am afraid of myself, by myself, although with another my terror has increased till I become quite ill, anxious, nervous, and the creeping instinct to swim never fails.

I ask myself to try and try and so I have but still remain so deep within soon many will be weary of the hardness some moments become. The slight word, action, thought, the slight hand of misfortune and  once again I am cold.

Thoughts of continuing perish in my head, with these afflictions I have buried within. I tell no one to what extent this hardness and ache has lasted. To what length this pain will cause to damn oneself for all eternity.

It is too great for one person, why must you do this all alone?

You say because it is also much too great for any other to endure.

They want to understand but slowly, certainly it eats them away to a hollow core and they become hard. Hard with the afflictions. With the afflictions of madness and memories. Then they too are lost and leave me once again.

And its starts over

And I tire, weary, beaten and…alone once again flee back to my deep sea.


© 2011 Crystalina A. Scales