My glistening needle passes through mottled flesh,
in its wake, a ****** trail of lace drags on,
my tissue, its sewn neatly together with pallid fabric and doily intricacy's,
ivory kisses, silken silvers, slumped over like a burning body
all tied in ribbons, intertwined by drooping pink bows
I'll intertwine again, same time tomorrow, same needle, same velvet
schedule my alarm so these intestines stay bound by the barbed wire of stitching
until then, admire my weak work as it unwinds with the lining of my mind.
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 1:10 PM UTC
Dutch white lace draped over the ivory long table in a seraphic quilting,
A Gawain teacup, embellished with gossamer Eustoma, sat, awaiting,
Diaphanous beads of the chandelier glistened above the lone, ceramic plate in quietude,
A tender marigold light gorged the room, as a sweet ambrosia replaced the solitude,
The Lush curtains lapped, picking up dusks gentle zephyr from behind me,
Opened oak and a soft wheeling dusting away my momentary reverie.
Trays of glimmering cloches, were carefully escorted into the room,
All adorned with silken pink ribbons, delicate as spring bloom.
I pulled out the cotton sewn chair, settling atop its the feathered doily pillow,
And rested upon the cushion, the double doors shut with a slam and a billow.
Before me, sat one of the decorated cloches, sliver like a frozen over nebulous,
I removed the reflective veil with the careful touch of folding an origami pond lotus.
Painted over in a mellow coddle of buttercream, was a layered strawberry cake,
Smiling flash at the saccharine smell, I cut into it, only to hear a trickling sibilance like a snake,
Once warm light had begun to frantically holler and splash around the room in a bleary dim haze,
Like a lagoon's catharsis, the chandelier rung out and submerged the dining hall in a flickering glaze,
During the jolting flashes, I raise the fork to my lips,
The cutlery quivering slightly under the padding of my fingertips,
Cradled by my tongue, the sponge decompounded bitterly in my jaw,
I couldn't place it, but it just tasted so overwhelmingly metallic and raw,
Shadows and honey glows, rebounding, back and fourth, playing like hungry hounds,
Staining the walls like crushed stars, over and over like a vehement clever without bounds,
As the night fed, and the chandelier flickered, I kept gulfing coppery forkfuls of food,
Sludge in my throat, wet and warm liquid slathered my gums, thickened and crude,
The rhythmic pulsing of the room, betrothed to the flavour swelling inside me,
It's taste fossilised between my gums, still, I parted my lips, welcoming it, voluntarily,
I don't know how long had passed, but the lights convulsions ceased,
Leaving the ripe gleam of the chandelier quiet and leashed,
Now before me, I could see the latter of my impulsive, gluttonous panic,
Sprawled like a burning body, a bloodied matter of fondant was slumped over the ceramic,
Like a gored lambs underbelly the feast was rich with innards and breathing with blackened bile,
Trickling down, wallowing on my chin was a stewed crimson trail, dying a patchy smile,
So I just sat there, a cup spilled at my side, spewing a tristful poison,
In quiet reflection, just me, me and the vestige of what I have done.
Dec 26, 2024
Dec 26, 2024 at 9:32 AM UTC
A seraphic grand piano, besmirched with blood and fervent,
Scattered across old alabaster keys, Ichor stains scores of parchment.
Stewed passion runs wildly across the docile tempo,
Mellifluous effervescence lingers in the gored vestiges of a crescendo.
Memories of artistic vigour shrivel and regress,
Our blissful felicity of mellifluence, slaughtered by organic evanesce.
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 8:35 AM UTC
The amethyst of her eyes writhed with maggots, laden in bile,
Spilling from the crystal in macerating clumps, thick and vile.
Squelching across her pupils, clouding her sclarea, they thrashed vehemently,
Glazing her cherubic face in the pulsing sludge of larvae beneath a peach tree.
The creatures tore apart her pores, crawling out, parasites moulding her skin,
Leaving a mottled rot gilding her features in divine black sin.
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 7:03 AM UTC
A sagging Gladius wallows inside me, limply,
It's rotting in its own wretched flaccidity,
I see others around me nurturing bounds of fruitful irises,
Some even mother sycamore, burgeoning with vigour, effortless as chaste kisses,
Tender fertilizer blots my chin in a bloodied marling,
I ingest the stolen soil, even when I feel the white sting of my innards' snarling,
So I'll inject myself with litres upon litres of putrid compost,
Only for my gladius to continuing shrivelling within my innermost,
It's stem-deep in nutrients, and is none the less decayed,
Atop the valley, even in the passing June, it stays, wilted withered and frayed,
Now, all I'm left with is the curdle of wetland moss festering in my blood,
Weighted with this fetidity, I let my gladius go, dead, in peace and clotted mud.
Dec 17, 2024
Dec 17, 2024 at 2:51 PM UTC
Baby's breath kisses the merlot tide of disease,
A brindled sea holds the white orchid of blanched dittany's.
Moonflowers scintillate with each cradle of dusk,
While Stars marl the sky, veiling over in cosmic musk.
During quietude, swans tread the ichor in a pearlesque flotilla,
The poison ripples beneath them as they thread between silk lilies and ivory scilla.
The gore strewn water continues to fester with pulsating, ripe, bile,
Despite all, the huddle of infancy will remain ever fertile.
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 9:31 AM UTC
Dripping with wild rafflesia, our home's halls reek,
As she walks, the stench interlaces with her, thick, fetid and bleak,
She reaches the dead-end, bringing the corpse lily to her lips,
I lurch an arm, but she's too far from my fingertips,
Now all I can do is watch as her teeth slowly, slowly, gnaw,
I'm there while her skin wrinkles like lapping sewage at shore,
Petals seep from her mouth in ****** clumps, gathering at the fold,
The dulcet caress of chewed flora blot her chin like gilded mould,
Her coughing tethers to the tantalizing ticks of the kitchen clock,
With no choice but to watch on, I stay until the final tock.
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 4:43 AM UTC
I felt the sting of nightshade bubble up inside me,
Once more, I cough up the bloodied Solanaceae.
Purged into my lap, budding with flesh,
Pallid petals ripe with Persian plum mottle, gored and fresh.
Racking my body in waves of herbaceous excruciation,
Crawling up my throat, clawing in botanical mutilation.
Lain out on the creased stone,
My macabre of a garden is blotted with the watercolour of my own.
Weary from retching, I stare at my withering ***** with distain,
I shrivel internally at the burden of mopping each and every stewed stain.
But I know I must clean the mess I've forged,
Because its nobody apart from me, who impulsively gorged.
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 2:00 PM UTC
Impale and gut me until I cough up the last of my wilting pansies,
Hack at the bark of my bones until they cease,
If need be, I'll listen to each word of your tirade,
Let my body take the blows to suffice yours with aid,
I'll let your sirens song of projection take me, full force,
Yes, I'm aware, it'll only end in the crucifixion of my walking corpse,
Indulge in mutilating me with the bullets of your throat,
I'll smile, looking down the barrel, even if the pistol of your tongue is no gloat,
Even when each sentence tears my tendons, I'll gladly let it lurch deeper into my innards,
I'll welcome a stream of crimson when my organs still sob blood afterwards,
I'll make space for the landfill in the core of my vessel,
If it makes you content, I'll plant your anguish in my soil, let it nestle,
Rips in my neck, I still I want you, have your sanctuary,
Rot the embers of my heart, you'll finally get your fantasy,
Don't shed worry for me,
It never hurt.
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 12:32 PM UTC
Oh, Moon vine,
Always sleeping where you bud.
I knew you couldn't wake,
Too lost in your fantasy's of pallid dittany's.
Do you wish to be stirred one day,
Or would you prefer to dream forever?
To chase the void in longing disparity,
To live in your own mind eternally?
When you wilt do you think, Moon vine,
You'll keep dreaming?
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 12:27 PM UTC