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You've cut ff your feet
to spite your head
Is there nothing left
in between?
is your whole life
blackened
and squandered
rotted and
gnarled
by gangrene?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.


How can you sit
there
with blood on your face
and not feel
it dry to a crust?
How can you sit
there
with gore on your hands
knowing you shiver
from lust?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead.
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.
You, too, must feel torment
and torture.
You, too, must be plagued
without cure.


Where are you going?
to hell and not back?
Did you buy your ticket
to ride?
or
will you walk
into
the bottomless pit
draped with your badges

flesh putrefied?

Heads on lapels like
an Easter corsage
dead lilies like
those on a grave,

a grave that you dug
then
stepped in to forage
to eat as a worm of the flesh.

Flesh young and tender
that flamed with desire
till your curse
extinguished
the fire.

*Join me, come in.
Come into my fire.
Join me, come in.
We'll wade through
the mire
with blood
in our mouths
and our eyes.

Taste of the pain,
the glorious pain.
Like a gift
I give it to you,
offered again and again,
a philanthropist
swollen with bounty,
who bestows what
he has
like a prize.
After seeing "Silence of the Lambs"...and wishing I hadn't!
Don't leave her, even when she gets moody.
Because she's too proud to admit how much
she needs you, how much your words mean
to her. Especially at 3am behind closed doors.

Choose to stay, even when she tells you to go.
Because she's afraid of opening up to people,
scared of trusting only to end up being used.
Stay. Because she's terrified of being alone.


And when you tell her you love her, mean it.
Because you have the power to shatter her,
to break her into a million fragile pieces.
So don't lie to her. Ever.
I want to believe everything that you said
I remember how it meant so much
I wish to say more to you

Your eyes playfully tug at my emotions
Your half smile lights up my senses
Your freckles dance on your face as you tease me

But it's not always there
But there's more air in between us than there has ever been
But I don't know if you love me

I love you
I need you
I want you

But I don't know if you love me.
If you need me
If you want me

And that is why I am afraid.
I like mandarin oranges
I like the way they taste
I like they way they look
I like how they fit in pockets
I like their straightforwardness
I like that they are easily segmented
I like how easily shared they are with others
I like how I can hold a few in my hand at once
I like the feeling when I peel it all in one long peel
I like running my thumb under the skin as I peel it
I like the way they make my hands smell afterwards, orange-y
I like how people seem mildly impressed when I am finished peeling
I like folding the skin back into its original sphere like I never peeled it at all
I like when people play along when I give it to them even though they know it’s just skin
I like putting the peel on my head like hat or fake hair and pretending it’s normal
I like pinching the peel and looking at the little spray of citrus
I like ripping the peel up into little, tiny, itty-bitty pieces
I like having that little orange pile on my desk
I like knocking the little green ****** off
I like chewing on the big pieces of pith
I like looking at the word pith
I like saying pith, pith, pith
I like mandarin oranges
My way of celebrating mental health awareness month. Or making myself seem like a serial killer. One or the other~
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