Walk
beyond the pale
and catch a look
at the proxy (yourself).
Glimpse at the unfamiliar,
at the sweet terror of someone,
you've never known (yourself).

Revel and tune in,
on the loose lips of a stranger(yourself).
in the queer warmness of this red rose.
Learn to love the unmanicured-self.
the new self that needs you.

make your grave
the lap on my thighs...

your open casket coffin
calls for the nip of your
soft rotting flesh
on its skin

if i have to hold you
while fleeting, decaying
losing yourself alive...

i'd rather be mother death
forever still watching over you.

The words on the page were like taking a picture of the way a moment felt
Can you feel it?
Read the words
Close your eyes
Let me fill you with words

Who am I?
I don't know
A concoction of
Different races
And language
A Frankenstein of
Word and cultures
Ignored and despise
By pure blooded