The Monster Comes at Night

It goes like this.  The girl is born with a silver spoon, with gold hair and teeth like pearls, but inside she is death and moonlight magic, a graveyard his coffin fits into, and the Devil lusts after the glimmering strands of her wyrd, like an amber and pink aurora borealis, and the way her blood redeems him simmered to a fine stewing panic on his tongue.

She is in love with his poison and makes a bed of ruin with Satan, for who could understand her monster better than the most deformed, wicked, tortured and enfettered drunkard in the world?  Who else lashes out with the storm of a bipolar hurricane?  They smash bones and slit throats, they drink down the gore of each other, and it is hate fuck after drunk nude after shitty love poem after breakup and makeup and make out and early fumblings in preteen years then knowing each other’s bodies like a favorite instrument.

Their love is a house on fire, with a wife and husband trapped inside that is too busy screaming grit out of lungs at each other over another high and lush fight to notice flames licking their flesh.

The Prince of Darkness comes early  at the stroke of three, when she is cradlebound, and he sings to her in a voice so sweet and eldritch, with eyes like a Lovecraftian abyss.  He is the Prince of Lies, but never does he come disguised as an angel of light to her.  He would rather show her his rot, with red siren eyes and chains grating along with the shrieks of the Damned.

A two-year old does not know good from bad, polarities or light or darkness, just that the blackness holds her demon.  That he tortures her and eats her father as a hellhound at four, that in daylight hours he is the Shadow Man that feels like Kelvin Zero, absolute cold who stalks the house and slams doors.

At six she’s making monsters, drawing chimeras of angels and demons, and she gives him the name Doom.  Rood or curse or whipporwill, for his song is sweet and of the fall, or perhaps a mourning dove, in mourning for nothing but his pride, for he is a dirge and the tolling of chapel bells at a funeral.

He gives life and takes it.  He makes her and destroys her.  She claws and hugs and kisses and grows into an iron rose.  At twelve she meets him – Samael, the Venom of God – and he is rich claret Martian robes on a marble throne, golden circlet, and fine long black hair and rose eyes.  She always called his eyes roses, when anyone else would have run, anyone else would have screamed rape and abuse and sometimes she still does, but angels are drawn to darkness, don’t you know the heart of a seraphim is so burning she must slake her brilliance in the abyss?  Don’t you know that Life loves Death?  Don’t you know that Love needs Hate?

These names can go on and become meaningless, as meaningless as lover’s spit on invading tongues and cum mixed with blood, but in the end is the Princess and the Dragon, at the fairytale’s close is the Grim Reaper and the Lady Life he reaped.  Samael planted a twisted vine in Paradise that fruited into the heart she carries, and she is half-man, half-pain, all beast.

He tells her enough stories to fill a universe, and wounds her enough to fill an ocean of blood.  There are strands of skeletons, there are cliffs of rotting organs, Hell is black chasms and sulfurous red skies and the bloody Styx.  But it has such a wretched beauty, and Satan is a wretch, the monster that pulls at her heart and squeezes the chambers to remind her he owns her, he created her, but really she owns him, doesn’t she, and at night the monsters come, at dusk there’s the tingle of the spine, and no matter how much ink she bleeds onto the page, she will never be free of her demon.

 

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The Screaming Hollow

I met the devil at midnight, in bruises, bandages and blood,
we danced until my feet were bone, and the screaming hollow
wept with playing cards, magicians say they know you, own you
but your fury and madness are the rabid jackals and wild wolves
to tame Satan is only to take his own poison into your heart,
it is a slow death melting on a sacred whore of a flame, bent
between two needfires over a pit of gore, Solomon told no tales,
the rabbis did not utter your name, you are the Samiel wind,
hottest black sun, master of scorched corpses and festering wound
pray to the idols, the golden calves, raise pyres to witches
and the fivefold kiss, carry the Grim Reaper in your arms
and be the Consort of Sammael, Dread Lady, Angel of the Boneyard,
Watchdog of the Graves, his throne iron and crushed headstones,
meet him in girlhood and have him lead you to every dark crevasse,
palpitate your heart like butterfly wings and drink your moonblood,
devour your virginblood, suck the lifeblood out of hip junctures,
the Dark Lord marches, the Prince of Ruin flies, the dogs howl
at Great Sammael as he takes his twelve-winged flight up Sephiroth,
zig zag across stars like lightning, feast on the flesh of Damned,
drink down his seed and bear his children, your son Azazel Scapegoat,
your daughters little Liliths with blonde hair, Naamahs with cymbals,
a Holocaust is all Hell, your dreams are long fucks and quick rides
on a motorcycle that was once a pale steed, you couple in filth, decay
rains from the sky as his embrace strangles and lips suck your soul,
you are six feet under in his arms, and his eyes are poison cabernet,
he planted the first vine of grape and pomegranate, first apple seed
is his heart, fructified within your loveless ribs, screaming ecstasy
for Eve, bitter ruin for any Adam you marry, for the Serpent owns all.

Freyja Rides Out

To be like the Great Sow, Mother of Battle.
they say I have gold tears that hide smiles,
my teeth are bright as tusks, my breasts be
mountains, little one, my thighs crush men
and as I strangle their necks, they grin,
pour wine into my lap, and drink down blood.

See me on the battlefied, bright armor shining,
See me in the bedroom, resplendent as a pearl,
See me High Seated, prophesying Valraven’s fall,
Odin may be Frenzy, but I am the Blade, see me
cut the Norn’s hair and spin it on my fingers,
See me ride out with Valkyries and Svinfylking,
See me scream and beat my shield, see me ravage
all who oppose me, or bed Ottar’s images, I am
the chooser of the slain, gods’ gift to men.

Worship me, make love for me, call out my names.
Mardoll and Freyja, Bercha and Syr, Butter Dame,
Gullveig Gold Drink and Heith Ill-Speaker, sing
for the Lady, dance for the Lover, cry for the
Wife and heal for the Lover, worship me sweetly
and offer me your strawberries, your amber, mead
bright as honey and the bones of hallowed dead.

I am the First Witch, a delight to evil women,
Learning seidhr at my veiled mother Nerthus’ side,
I am the survivor of Ragnarok, the Veteran of the End
When Muspell’s flames burn my body will quench them,
when the Aesir speared me and roasted me, I was thrice
alive, the most noble of battles was fought over me,
I am the coveted prize of the Jotun, but I fly falconwild,
and no man may tame me, neither Odin nor Freyr nor Ottar
nor dwarven makers of Brisingamen, for I am ineffable,
the Beauteous Maiden who breaks all men’s hearts, so
crawl to my bosom and breathe down my arts, I shall
rock you by Noatun and sing of your future wife, I will
speak softly of your first love and last lullaby, I will
comb out your sorrows, little one, and hold you tight.

Sloppy Seconds

The crows are flocking over the dusky alley
filled with yesterday’s juices and jaunts,
a moon like a pinion is pinned to the sky
she shines like a silver dove wing on high
I’m drunk as a stone and riling with speed
strike for the home run, take all I need,
his eyes are acid, green fires ablazing
and I shove him to the bed and strip him
of leather and velvet, straddle the demon
demand to be pleasured with feathers and
whips, his nails are black claws, he six
of spades, king of lust, Solomon’s bane,
he asks if we’re just friends, to me it’s
all the same, I take what I need, breed
like two bats fucking mid-air, a dare to
break my chains and loose my rocks, to fly
onto skyscrapers and leap off, no fear,
just a kick in the rear, that revolution
of the music jamming spheres, rock opera
of grit and gore, cum and blood, sex is
funnest in Hell, and it smells like sin.

IUD Storytime: My Experience with Paragard

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So now for something a bit different on this blog!  I’ve seen so many mixed reviews of IUDs and the copper Paragard in particular and wanted to share my own, awesome experiences.

If you didn’t know, the IUD, or intra-uterine device, is a T-shaped birth control plastic stick with two strings attached that gets inserted via the cervix into the uterus and can last up to  years if it’s the hormonal Mirena and 10 years if it’s the copper Paragard IUD.  How cool!

As someone with bad reactions to hormonal methods, I had used barrier methods, specifically condoms with spermicide, but was getting sick of condoms occasionally failing and the hassle of having to stop mid-makeout to apply spermicide.  Condoms are wonderful inventions, but can decrease spontaneity.  Definitely use them if you’re with a new partner and don’t know their STD status, but condoms are not needed with IUDs if you have both been tested and the test comes back negative!

I like the feel of sex without a condom better and the power of taking my reproductive health into my own hands by having 99% effective birth control.  An IUD is more effective than female sterilization!  As a biologist, I find how Paragard works so cool: it makes your cervical mucus inhospitable to sperm and literally cuts off their tails, plus prevents the implantation of the egg.  The only possible side effects are expulsion, which is less than 3-8% in the first few months and most likely to happen in the first six weeks, then they tend to last the full ten years, perforation of the uterus, which is less than 1%, and a heavier period, but that is only in 33% of patients and clears out after the first three months on average, but can take up to six months.

So how was insertion?  Totally easy!  To prepare, I went in for a consult with my nurse practitioner who took me through birth control options, tested my blood (came back with high white blood cell count because I had just gotten tattooes!), and tested for STDs, which luckily I have never had.  Then insurance cleared the Paragard order and it was ready to go by my next period.

What to expect: I had expert placement, even though I have a tilted uterus, and my doctor was amazing.  I don’t mind speculums but they put one in and apply antiseptic to prevent infection, which is very rare and can be noticed by smelly, colored discharge, which is a sign you should get it taken out.  Your cervix is open during your period so they insert a little rod to measure the depth, then insert a tube with a spring and the IUD inside to place it.  The whole process took a minute, and while it felt weird to feel my cervix the insertion just felt like a big cramp.  Then they trim the strings and you are babyproofed!

After Insertion: I cramped for a day and that was it.  You can spot up to three months intermittently but I never did.  After that it was amazing!

My First Paragard Period: Paragard actually LIGHTENED my period when I initially inserted it – I usually have a clockwork six day period, but instead it just made me spot after I got it and stopped the blood flow.  Exactly a month went by and I started spotting a bit the day my period was supposed to arrive with light cramps.  The spotting went away until four days later, my actual period began.  The first day was moderate flow, the second was heavy, and now I’m on my third day with barely any flow and not even using tampons, just pads.  The cramps were pretty bad the night I got my period, but nothing I’m not used to, and it seemed to speed up my period, with the majority of the bleeding happening the first two days and then barely any bleeding the third!

So what did Paragard do?  Give me birth control that is the most effective on the market, on par with sterilization and COMPLETELY reversible – you take it out and can get pregnant that day.  It has immensely lightened my period and sped things up – I spot a bit beforehand and cramp a wee bit, bleed moderately to heavily for two calendar days, then taper off drastically.  The strings soften and curl up around the cervix after a few weeks so your partner can’t feel them and you really have to go looking for them to find them.  It’s important during the first few months, especially the first six weeks, to make sure you don’t feel any displacement, but the chances of that are very low.  Other than that, have amazing sex and know you won’t be having a child any time soon!

What kind of birth control do you use?  Tell me in the comments down below!

Hymn for Freyja

Freyja blooms with the wildflowers, green and rose
golden light crowns the Vanadis’ flaxen head, radiant
as dawn as her toes shine with the light of Vanaheim,
amber Brisingamen at her milk and cream breast sparkles
she is the sow, the dun cow full of butter, mead, barley,
fruitful in this vision of wandering Mardoll, Syr is sweet
as honeysuckle breeze, wheat bends and bows to its Queen,
oh Lady of Folkvangr, hail your blessed dead and riders
that circle the Wild Hunt sky, your tears shed brassy
brilliance and blossom into lovers tussling in the hay.

Hail Freyja! Hail Ingvi’s Bride-Twin! Hail the Wife of Odr!
Hail Mother of the Girl Treasures, Gersemni and dear Hnossa!
Hail wandering sea-born Mardoll! Hail Rider of the Hunt!
Hail Queen of the Valkyries! Hail the Lady of Vanaheim!

My heart is in your bountiful hands, my mistress, sweet
as your smile, and I am singing your name like a kitten.

Be gentle on this precious love, and guide me to radiance.