Beneath the Wire

For Ray, Once the fires are started and smoke fills the air, plastic envelopes brick and clouds begin to grey, take my soul. Take my body from our bed. And as the grass outside burns and soars in the wind, hold me in your arms and lay me far away. Leave town, use your leather boots. Cross the nearby train tracks when the signal turns bright red. Once over, cross the heather hills. I thank you for every stroke of your feet. I’ll decompose the further you go. Don’t worry. That’s normal. Normal in a sick world.   Pass the cow farm. We’re miles away from your picket fence now. Did I tell you? Did I tell you I lived there once. For a little while. Just a little while. A moment really. I used to play with the cows in their pens. Used to link daisy stems together. Bask in the sun on sunny days . I loved it there. I loved playing against the sky. When it was the holiest of reds. When heaven was fine. Just fine. I’ll slip in your grip but hold onto me as we pass by. I can’t stop here.   Next you’ll see the field. It looks endless, like you could fall off the grass into nothing. It’s not. What it is is full of life. Feelings. All of this just in front of you. See. Look with your eyes. I can’t. I’m dead. I wish I could.   Cross the field. Pull me onto your back. Softly please. There will be an oak tree somewhere. It moves sometimes. You’ll know once you get there. Its trunk is strange. It’s man-made. Beneath it, you’ll find a man with three eyes; two blue, one green. Approach him. Once you get close enough, he’ll point a crooked finger farther down the field. Follow his instructions. He’s trustworthy. He’s leading you to our safe house.   You’ll end up near a creek. Follow the stream upwards. DO NOT do the opposite. The smoke will find you. The mirrors will destroy your eyes. I could fall into the abyss. Just do as I say. Follow the stream upwards until you can see a little cabin in the distance. Run towards it with me. Once you reach it you’ll notice the house has been torn apart by plants. The front door is on its last rusty hinges and the woodwork is trapped by thorns. Don’t touch anything. You’ll cut yourself. Do not go into the cabin. You will die. It is not the safe house. Something lives inside the cabin. Something hungry. Something ruthless. If you enter its home it will not let you go. Ignore the cabin. Walk on. We’re almost there.   Soon after you leave the cabin behind the field will stop. Just stop. And you’ll be able to continue through the desert. I hope you brought a scarf. The winds here are tired, exhausted. But they sting your face. I don’t need a scarf. I’m immune. Keep walking with me through the sand. We’re almost there. Just a little longer. After a short while you’ll hear a voice. My voice. Telling you to go back. It’s not me obviously. I don’t have a voice anymore. The monsters in the wind stole it. Don’t listen to them. They want you to leave their land. They want to eat my body. Run away. Sprint away from them if you must. We have to get away from any doubts. If you follow my instructions, their howling will soon disappear and we’ll be alone again. Once you get to this point the sand beneath your feet will disintegrate, leaving you standing on nothing. This means something. It means you made it to our safe house.   We talked about this day. Do you remember we talked about this day? You were scared. Panicking. You were convinced you would die on the way. That you would do something wrong. Aren’t you proud of yourself now? I know I’m proud of you. I always knew you could do it. Oh, I can hear you now. My eardrums are already working. You’re confused? You feel like you're being watched? You’re fine. It’s me on your back. Just slip me off onto the ground. Look up. The walls are building around us. Thick, fleshy walls. They pulsate too. Aren’t they gross? They’ll keep us safe. They’re the flesh, our new body for a short while as we wait out the carnage, the havoc. The walls are the body and we’re the organs, making everything work. Everything is functional. For us to work at our full potential you need to help me. You see, I’m dead. Yes, I know you’re aware of that. But I need you to bring me back. Bring back my life.   Yes I know it’s unnatural. What about this trip has been natural? This world? You’re not natural. You come from the desert, just as I did. You rose from sand. You’re unfit to stand on the grass. Doesn’t stop you from trying. I want to come back. Don’t you want me to come back? I can look into your soul. Do you know that? I can gaze into it. I can see, I can feel. You want me back. You’re so lonely that you don’t realise it. It’s become part of your routine. You want me back. And you're going to bring me back in our safe house. Natural or unnatural.   The room’s fully formed now. The spectres can’t get through. Everything is perfect. Well, almost perfect. Now, you see that corner? The one you just noticed. All the other corners are made out of flesh mass. This one is different. Unique. It’s a wall of twisted, gnarled wire. Barbed wire. There’s a reason for that. When I was born, when I first woke up, I lifted my head up, eyes masked by grit and sand. I tried to lift my arms. Then my legs. Then my chest. I couldn’t move. I was tangled up. t in barbed wire. Roll my body towards the wire. Do not look at my face. DO NOT LOOK AT MY FACE. You’ll mess everything up if you look at my face. I’ll die, you’ll die, everything will be gone. DO NOT LOOK AT MY FACE. Look at something else, anything else! Lay me down beneath the wire.   It’s come full circle hasn’t it? Do you think father would approve? Ah, who cares what he thinks anyway? Lay me down beneath the wire and wait by my side. Be patient. I’ll wake up as soon as I’m ready to.   Wait with me beneath the wire. Wait for me to awake. Wait for me beneath the wire. Someday I’ll have something to say. Wait with me beneath the wire. Listen to the outside. Listen to the howling of the wind. Wait for me beneath the wire. Soon our new life will begin.