he calls me angel ,

but he does not realise
through the
retro-spective communiques
and unfleshly
jargon,  

i am a *******







with a stitched up *****.

' I love you more than life itself.'


     'You make everyone else look so ugly.'

     ' Remember that you have a wall of friends who will ‘gg anyone that wants to hurt you, we are stronger than you think we are. '

     'You are the only person that could truly understand me… We are probably, always being ****** over by the world.'

     'Your words humble me, hah, but really, I only do what is best for the people I care about. '

' … what’s wrong with you? '

'You’re not dead, don’t say you are. Stop playing dead.'

'One day, your face is so full of light, the next you seem like all the life has been ****** out of your eyes… I hardly know you anymore.'


'**** your philosophies! Just once in your life, can’t you be straight up for me just once? Can’t you say anything that’s not abstract? Huh? Why won’t you tell me the truth?'

     'You’re so pure… and innocent.'

     'Hah! I’m not saying you’re a best-friend… You’re the best-friend… and you’re all mine!'

     'You’re perfect.'

'You know what? you’re quite beautiful… even if you are different than what “Beautiful” is… I think you are.'

      'I want to meet you again.'

' I think you are selfish… and you over exaggerate. I think you are full of ****. You know what? Sometimes I feel… I’m mentally abused by you. I think you just use me to blame for your own life mistakes. '

' Why the **** should I care about you? '

' We’re drifting apart, sometimes I talk to her, more than I talk to you.'

     ' You’re a ****. Go hide behind your little boyfriends.'

     ' You are so little.. and tiny, sometimes I think I'll break you. '

     ' I'll only be fine.. if you are. I need you to be fine.'

     ' We'll go to the beach again, love. I promise!'

From my fiery bed
I watch him take small steps
He races back and forth
Entranced deep in thought.

I hungrily stare at his flesh
One I wish were mine.
I am a demon.
I cannot own flesh.
I take it with me to suffer.

But the more I watch
The more I covet his body were mine.
I lick my lips in hunger
Eager to taste such defined muscles.
Awaiting the right moment to claim them.

I stalked him
Until he took a wrong turn.
He walked deep into a dark alley
Poor boy, if he had only watched were he had walked
He'd still be alive.

An eccentric,
A ****** assassin.
Waiting hungrily for his next ****.
I saved his body
I claimed it.
But I still took his life.

Now I have flesh
But will I be missed in my fiery bed?
Oh, only if Satan didn't have more eyes
I would enjoy the different tastes of my brethren
My fellow deadly sins.

Pride, sloth, envy, gluttony, greed and wrath
They are very tempting
To the human flesh at least.
Will I be able to taste them?

Centuries I've watched humans make the same mistakes
Fallen deep within their desires.

Violators claiming the Young's virtue.
Multimillionaires seeking to expand their fortune.
Angry men killing to avenge.

How I have dreamt of living like they do.
Taking bites out of temptation.
But what I seek the most
Is the hardest I can possibly acquire.

I am lust.
I cannot feel desire
For I am desire.

My perfect plan,
It has failed.
I wished my tempting snake called upon me.

But I am that snake.

All I want is the attention
The want
And desire.

there is teeth


in your eyes.

such monstrance
you possess for
such weak wrists
and fallacious mind.


Remember , my dear:

your plastic skin,
your bruised ***,
your reverie mind,

is ******* dissectable.


don't **** with me.

- -

i.


dear poetry, we met when i was four,
you were count lestat, and it was love
at first sight. you were made of bone
and bane, and razors, i was a mosochist

and you were a black widow, i would
know, i was there, trying to pry
open all of your eight legs, looking
for the amrita.


ii.


dear poetry, if i were to answer all
of the thirteen questions you have ever
asked me, the answers would be,
no, no, yes, march the thirty second,
"how frail a human heart must be -",
diacetylmorphine without the butterfly,
mother, yes, barely, jolene, you don't
love me, contractility, and no.


iii.


dear poetry, you have pretty legs.


iv.


dear poetry, i am an ugly archetype of denuded
adolescence and i think you smell
like teenagers and a leather hacked smothered
in *** and black labels and ck perfume,
and a pound of god.


v.


dear poetry, if sleep is the brother to death,
where does my mother lie,
before ribbons of aubade
seek the flower in the sky?


vi.


dear poetry, today i don't think i love you anymore.


vii.


dear poetry, if you were humanised,
you would be ugly. you would be defleshed,
you would be ugly. you would be marked constantly by
ugly people and you would bleed ugly people.


viii.


dear poetry, today i might ******* my muses,
i might make them wear fishnet leggings,
with ****-me heels, i might give them *****
to suit others that **** them better than i do, and
it is all your fault.


ix.


dear poetry, i promise myself i would not speak
to you anymore, at least not in words, but
we both know poets are nothing but
liars, don't we?


x.


dear poetry, i am not a poet, all the poets are dead.

they died for you.


xi.


dear poetry, i am writting you thirteen letters
a year, they are ugly, like i am, they spell
an ugly word you would never speak of. you
will be anatomised, i will stuff you with
consangunuty, i will re-invent you.


xii.


dear poetry, you are older than me,
i am twenty, but you are only ten,
i am ripe, bruised, plucked from purple lips,
nothing is ageless.


xiii.*


dear poetry*, i am going to break you,
grind you in a mortar, roll you up,
into a blunt, and i am going to smoke
you along with the angels.

;when you cut me open
at least nurse me.


until I perish with my eyes open.


" don't play so innocent. it's great being you. you are pretty and good at everything.
who wouldn't want to have miss perfect luny juny."

can we stop? i don't like this game. it reminds me of guns. hide and seek wit guns. everyone is dead. and mad. but moar dead. the rain is gone. the sky is pregnant.

" you are love in flesh, angel."

tell me where the rabbit found you. tell me how it was amputated it's foot so it would survive with luck.