It’s really something suicidal
When perfect and beautiful and wonderful things
Remind you only of other things
That you can never get back.
Because roses prick,
And lovers trick,
And everyone in the world is sick,
But, darling, don’t you worry,
Because I’m the sickest of us all.
We used to intertwine like vines growing up a tree
Now the only thing that intertwines is this dark and me.
You’re tequila for my bones and braids, the starlet in my smoke,
This trick has got its grip on me; my song’s become a choke.
True love never fails and that’s my failure in the night
Marijuana medicine taken ‘fore twilight
Thoughts resurrect like zombies, grow between my veins,
Even when you’re absent you still keep me insane
Poetic, pathetic, diuretic, drain me of my blood
Mixing spit and hate and love until it becomes mud
Sheets of shame and guilt’s to blame for my empty heart
Foreclosed, alone, this isn’t poetry, this isn’t art
Eighteen and way too broken to be reckless and to care
Pull the trigger, shatter me, pull on my long dead hair
Scar-less little dream-catcher holding onto golden wings
Baby girl with bad dreams drinking up careless flings
I’m an alien with history just looking to get high
I prefer my world fucked-up, on the rocks and extra dry.
I'm the one who falls for heavenly eyes
who likes a slice of poisoned cherry pie
constantly seeking the one for me
I always play with the devil's key
deadly and wonderful
that's what you are
you make me love drunk
I see stars
chemistry is electric
the passion in bed
seems like magic
or maybe a trick
to make me weak
as you poison my mind
Infatuated with thoughts of you
feeding me lies but I still want more
I wonder if you love me too
even if you don't, I still want to score
because you're the drug I need
the kind of excitement I seek
When at my lowest
I hum a tune
It sends my spirit to crest
I’m once again immune.
Music
Does the trick
Like magic!
It never pales
Never fails.
She wounded me
Deeper and more times
Then anyone I've ever known
Yet here I lay
Remembering
Being hand in hand
As we cruised along
Singing our hearts out
And laughing
With smiles on our faces
I weep for that girl
Yet she was a mirage
A trick on my eyes
As I drove down
A road
On a scorching
Summer day
The closer
I traveled towards
Her
The more I realized
She wasn't an oasis
Of love and trust
But just heat
Stagnated
And slowly
Dissipating
From my life
Weither she was real
Or and illusion
I don't know
But I'll always miss her
With everything I am
You hit the right notes.
You see through the coats
Of paint and bone saws
All the undertone claws
At my fabric
Is this part of some elaborate
Plan
Or trick
Either will stick
Firmly to your web
I float through the ebb
Without really caring
If you, or anyone, is staring
At me caught in webbing
Of your plan
Or trick.
Because
Either will stick.
I put on my best:
A metal vest.
"Check, check-mate"
Is the only thing I hear as of late.
Touch feels like fire.
And I am nothing but a cheap liar.
Put your best tricks on the table
I'll ignore my suspicion if I am able.
Mom was never mom.
Weakness was never weakness.
You were never you.
And we argue, is it green or is it blue?
Beating wings fanning flames,
the fires of Hell erupt from pain.
Broken mind, forgotten heart,
where there's an end, there is no start.
Ragged dress, bloody cloak,
the voice of Chaos, it hath spoke.
Deep and drawn, the day is dark,
the Hounds of Hell, they spit and bark.
Towers tall, caverns deep.
with closed eyes, They take those who sleep.
The underworld is not a hell,
but home to fright and fire spells.
Demons trick and spirits twist,
breathing out a poisonous mist.
When passed through the River Styx,
that's where the dying screams will mix.
Rings of Hell, there are nine,
their horrors spread chills down thy spine.
When ye pass, yer finally free,
the Way Station's expecting ye.
A resting point, sit and wait,
the Ice may be yer final Fate.
Beyond towers, looming high,
there is an icy, flaming sky.
Niflheim is frozen still,
forever stopped, ever in chill.
I’ve become a one track record,
capable of singing only the song of unrequited love—
a song I once proclaimed only virgins sing,
one only the green and untouched tongues could know.
This morning I could swear ash fell from my electronic cigarette
(though it was probably the drugs)
or a visual trick of some car’s headlights that I was passing.
It was one of those mornings
when the other drivers moved out of my way,
leaving me the left lane
to cruise at some speed
that was too fast for my tired eyes
and too slow for my mind.
But even the cops decided to leave me be—
as if they could read the disdain of my expression
from two hundred feet away.
It was one of those mornings,
when my last thought in my dreams
was what is reacting to me inside your pants
and my first thought upon waking
was when I would next help you take them off.
I think I was trying to shake you from my thoughts,
trying to break and reform neural connections—
but, my love, there is no speed so fast that it can accomplish all that.
.
The slim neck on the feminine beast;
the erotic trick on so sweet a treat,
took to me like a doubtful dare,
when their mirrors, descending, rolled as a pair.
Bind these hands,
these increasingly suffering hands
that have crushed the squeeze
on palest necks with ease,
whilst wishing death
for their typical demands!
Born in blood,
amidst the rancid stench
of Skid Row urine enveloping my sense,
my face was cruelly bitten and tattooed
by a maniac's angered hanger….
the result of a call girl defiled nude!
It's building,
building,
building more!
What's your name?
Where's your face?
I don't really care!
Your stare was your final act of grace!
You used to lock your doors
and raid your mother's drawers
for her drugs, perfume and lip rouge.
You've let down your guard,
growing up with short regard,
with evil near, affording refuge.
Leaky bruises, bubbling up my body sores,
make sure a devil's door
for mites to dine from inside out!
A moldy cerise burlap sac,
woven taut to my scalp, infested,
traps the voices that bang about!
My worthy place,
no higher than that of a rat
that swims pleasantly in lethal sewage,
is to drown the sorrow of a dame
whose wretched wants and Whiskey haunts,
prove to be my daily tutelage!
Mind the silent menace taking drink alone,
pondering rape in your favorite bar.
Free your selfish skin, unto me unmolested,
roaming into crimson-lit shadows
for you, for me, who was born in blood,
helping you to numb your darkest scars!
-Mark Lach
