My heart was beating faster than I want it to
As I keep waiting for it to stop but
It's as though someone jammed broken glass down my throat
And the sands of time are raining down,
Invading my eyes so I lose sight clarity
Which I fought so hard to find.
Once faded scars slowly fading in reverse,
Creeping and finding their way back onto
My faded, panicked heart and
Anger, so much anger,
With my mind on fire with the words
I never threw.
I'm tangled inside and everything comes out like glass
I'm cutting inside.
The way you carelessly lose yourself, cuts me inside
And I forcefully tear my skin off
To show you I'm bleeding.
Can these pools of red speak louder than thunderous phrases?
You find yourself in dark places
Losing yourself to people who won't remember your name.
And you forget yourself
In the worst kind of way.
I can't force you
Can tears? Can pleas of red and blue? Can whispers of adoration?
Does it come down like lightning - or do I sit in a deserted room...
Watching an hour glass, receiving postage with your name written on it.
Hearing about you from everyone but
And I'm the woman stuck in a painting
Trapped in an artifact
Scribbled on a drawing.
I can't speak!
Every single piece of me is lost in time, to trying, to trying..... Fading.
But, I saw you yesterday.
It felt like the beginning of something,
After all this time, maybe we can began again
I looked into her eyes as I slit her throat, they screamed, “Why?” I didn’t mean to kill her, I watched as her body went limp, crashing onto the cold, marble floor, I had to hide the body but where? I found myself grabbing a shovel and hiding it in the backyard, I had to wash the blood off my body, I soaked the sheets in bleach and burned all the furniture, there was nothing left but ashes and dust, I knew her family would start wondering where would she be, I was nervous, frightened at the fact that they would soon learn the truth, her father was a strict disciplinarian with a catholic background, he preached purity yet practiced adultery, sometimes his lips would kiss the heads of whiskey coated bottles.
During his drunken stupors, his fingers would slip between the cracks and crevices of his daughter’s white skirt, his drunken stupors soon turned to violent outburst, his large, gaping hands grasping the soft, tender flesh of her mother’s throat, she was a quiet woman, she would sit in her recliner and sip on her ruby red wine, her cigarette ashes would be scattered across the floor, her eyes would slip into a stupor, she would sneak her lover's home and fornicate in the master bedroom, their violent lovemaking would shake the walls, rattle the cabinets and keep the neighbors awake, the whole neighborhood knew of their infidelities yet said nothing, especially her daughter, who would watch their father and mother take home various strangers for their twisted orgies, then she met me, I would listen to her, she spoke as the whole room went silent, she would speak about her dreams and fears, I would become her shoulder to cry on, I remember one day, as my fingers would fiddle through her soft, black hair, her eyes, dull and dim, would lay their hints of a tortured life, they were brown, a dark brown, her eyes slowly lost their luster, she would stare at me and the world with such contempt, I knew, I knew that she only wanted love.
I watched her as she slept, her fragile hands, gripping tightly on a crucifix and a bible, she would twist and turn out of frustration and guilt, in her mind, she wanted only to repent. I found her one day with her head slumped over the toilet, the pill bottles and heroin needles sat right to the pool of vomit that flooded the bathroom floors, her eyes were bloodshot, her arms were bruised, battered, and marked, I took her to the hospital, I still wonder, how did she survive? When we returned home, I looked at her, her body would shake and she break out in hot flashes and cold sweats, she couldn’t handle the pain, I could tell, she would look at me like sick puppy wishing to be put out of its misery, she grabbed my hand and gave me the razor, she pleaded and prayed, as I paced the room, I contemplated the thoughts of assisted suicide, as I watched her, she look into my eyes and whispered “Please…” I took the razor, with my hands gently caressing her hair, my hands, the blade, dance across her throat, I saw the blood, the luster in her eyes had returned as she slipped into the afterlife, I knew in death, that she thanked me, I saw the pain, I saw the relief.
You pressed up against me,
I was distracted.
While your eyes were closed,
When you hands searched my body,
I didn't get hot.
You hardened at the thought of me,
while I only did because of the cool air.
For once...I didn't care if people saw our pda
like the times I did before.
I wasn't shy like always
I didn't blush once when you complimented my appearance.
But in a sense, you still offended me.
I was more interested in your dog than I was you
But yet I still feel I need to have you to be
Withering, withering, withering down.
A spiral of emptiness and weakness in my own heart.
A sickly form of hate.
A frail figure of shadows and misery and memorie.
O! and what is the field of golden corn compared to the bruise on your throat.
Choked by the dominatrix of godliness, when she is called life///when she is called death.
Forced to spit out your last drop of blood, through your pharynx///through your eyes.
Sexually with the knife in hand. Like stone to butter, stabbing within the heart of the devil. Like the beast with three cocks, who carries the devil in his sinful testicles...you stab stab stab at the flesh of your own chest.
No hair after the fire, no blood after the lust.
The sexuality which assaults YOUR OWN SANITY. It becomes you.
Withering and withering within the HELL of your own spiral.
O! and when are you to become the devil within the sac of the beast?
To be born and reborn again within the light of the sun.
Burning away in a pool of blood that you craved forever.
Burning back together in a pool of semen that you craved forever.
O! and who are you when you are left naked and alone by your own hand in a pool of hate that you craved forever, I asked myself.
the pulse of raging flame
sitting in wait deep
within the core of light
the flicker of spark ignites,
like the screech of dead, cold metal
along your wooden floor
as I fight the need to scream
and break your vaporizer--
this slumbering dragon
sitting in my chest
with billowing wings of
emerald green and burnt-orange
like a whirlwind of autumn leaves twirling
crescent magic of destruction
pulling and pushing
this rage up and down
until the tendrils of flame simmer
and I stand on tip-toes to kiss
your soft lips, the smoke
escaping as exhaust and love, tender--
Sometimes I get a fire in my throat,
It builds and grows,
Evechialy it must come out of my mouth.
Sometimes in one long ear-splitting sound,
or other times in a huff of smoke.
If it doesn't come out,
I turn into something of red and strained.
I just might grow a long tail and wings,
So I can fly to a place to stay
and away from anyone's sight.
There I can expel each vile thing that I have in myself.
Only then will I turn back to normal
and live like everyone else.
Of course I am angry
I tried my best not to love you
I tried my best focus on your many flaws
I tried my best not to continuously see past them
I tried my best not to allow the carefully placed ice around my heart to melt
I knew better, I knew better a million times
Than to fall for someone who was always at war with himself
And yet I did
Yet I stupidly, stupidly did
Whatever pain I've felt, I accepted the very moment that I became used to wondering and worrying about you
The very moment I felt my mouth curve up instead of down at your irksome comments
When I began to detest your absence instead of presence
I could not focus on your flaws
I could not stop looking past them
And when I saw that my layers of icy indifference were turning into a puddle
I stood over it, horrified.
But my reflection only smiled back at me.
When the idea of loving you is more pleasurable to be around
Than to actually be with you,
What does that say about you?
..... What does that say about me..?
"You don't love me... You love the idea of being with me."
Didn't bother to turn and look at me when she said that. Just kept watching TV I guess.
It took me days to realize how right she was, and how angry I was with her and myself.
DEAF EYES, BLIND EARS, THOUGHTLESS TONGUE,
WORDLESS RAGE, MY MIND ON FIRE, MY LIFE IN FLAMES, SELF IMMOLATION.
BURN IT, BURN IT ALL, TILL THE WORLD IS NOTHING BUT ASHES IN YOUR MOUTH.
LIKEN THE WORDS LIFE, LIVE, LOVE ,...
IT ALL ENDS. A MAIDENS' VEIL, A MAIDEN HEAD, DEATH. TILL YOU ARE JOINED LET NO MAN PUT YOU UNDER.