Most beautiful fragment,
You're a frayed photograph,
Your focal point blurred,
with the tears you have,
swallowed.
Don't tuck your fingers,
beneath your sleeves.
Darling I have seen the,
severed butterflies.
Which bit into your wrists.
Sweatheart, don't ever,
let my eyes wander,
over -new found- gashes
of vapid metal.
My sinking love,
with -emaciated- scars.
Running down your
-pronounced- ribs.
With every ounce you
tear from your thighs,
I sigh in depleted joy.
And weep to the
children of the sleepless.
To those who ****** their
bloodied knuckles-
scraped against a charred throat.
Hold fast to-
these horrid delusions.
To which you have conceived.
Close your sleepy eyes,
wake for tomorrow's morn.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
Please grasp me,
press me to your chest.
Hush my frenzied inhalations,
I can bear this pain no longer.
Dip your fore-finger,
across the roughed wake,
of my cheek.
Blot away the trauma.
Rest your chin
dangle its weight
my head -jeering-
screeching
little girl-
clutches her temples.
It flickers, clarifies.
Back and forth,
Rocking, in fragmented, jerking
motions- her underweight
figure slammed along.
Blood purges with each
maddened- hoarse gurgles
the spittle deposits at
the overhang of her lip.
Snagged in the animosity,
of gnawing, writhing inhumanity.
TASTE IT rusted copper
An ashing purple, crusty
and running over engorged rims
of milky cocoa.
Darling, tip out your tongue,
lap up the shrivels
of failed organs and deprived marrow.
Images, flicker.
Pulse, with the steady
throb of an aching yawn.
shift
Reality sweltering
Chilled moisture scoffs-
the nape of your neck.
Muddled, focus,
focus.
honing in
back-
and-
forth.
Rocking back and forth,
no good.
Not good enough.
No help.
Flicker
malicious snarls.
Fluctuating horror,
impales your upper thigh.
-SILENCE-
Whispering -hush-
-hush-
don't
let him hear
hush
whispers
Make it STOP
whispers
-hush hush-
help
ME
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
Such a tedious thing,
I sense our existence appears.
For my chest to breech to the sky,
A tightened blossom of whipping purity.
Then to sink towards such a vicarious engulfment of hell.
With each palpitating symposium,
My lungs waver.
To crust over,
and bless the,
upon gilded guffaws.
Perturbed of my ascension.
Or shall they sink,
Sallow under chagrined blasphemy,
My horridness inked upon
parchment seasoned skin.
Not but,
a child of bitter consideration.
I shall butter myself in ashes,
just to perceive myself a shadow.
For at dusk's beckon,
perturbed; to kiss the constellations.
Blemishes I conjured,
beneath a quavering lip,
a gentle crease of my nose.
I silence their whimpering of wrongdoings,
which I have failed to rupture.
To exhale,
in such a bubbling manner.
It gurgles at my lips.
Dribbles before me,
Whilst the sun blinks back a yawn.
Yet, upon a lunar serenade,
the talons which protrude from my veins,
writhes gruesome.
To my supposed
talents,
I see no anchor.
From them, to what lay before me.
To where I shall drift.
And good sir,
label my simplistic existence,
if you must.
Yet I shall soon die,
and so, you will too.
And by that flicker of seconds,
we should matter no more.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC