I reside in your stomach, lying here is bliss…getting gnawed on everyday by your attacking pepsin enzyme. I suspect you would not digest me yet, dear Jennor? You sneak. You, I believe have changed me the most, with your knives. You cut and carve me in your pleasure…shaping, moulding me into the person ridiculously typing this myfuck **** today. In return, I’ve done nothing but bleed with you under the cyanide sun. You’ve ordered me to write, of which I obeyed, and forced me into acceptance. You protect me from everything, at a distance, possessively stalking from the shadows. For that I thank you, and I adore you, ever so dastardly. When I am strong enough, I shall protect you too, and be there to save you…I shall infeckt you in my eternity. You claim my soul, locked up for safety …and but of course, our secrets shall stay untold. Smother me, until I am purple and can no longer breathe.

The sun would always come out a little after

                                                                        the mind massacre
                                                                          
                                                                               - follow the monsters-

            i fancy lying on the
hard floor
because it is the only place
where the train of vertebrates in
my spine
can set in its rails.  


                                                               i am a void
                                                               bleeding out oxidised civilisation
                  -holes in my head-
                                                                in a world where colours
                                                                are just fabricated memoirs
                                                                of porcelain filmstrips.
                                                                            

i fear that i am becoming anorexic:
my brain is splattered onto
a tiny plate
                                            -emaciated-
where i maliciously
pick out the
soft and pretty
bits.


My tongue is cancerous,
segregating words into
Pinks' and greys'.        
                                                                                
                                                             my heart has malformed into      
                                                             an ugly blister
                                       -swollen-
                                                              milking saps
                                                              of dismal yesterdays.        

i'm swimming
alone
in an acid bath
of bleach and ice.                                            

                                                      can't find the light
-the light-
                                                       beneath the glass
                                                                                              -the night-
                                                       of the
-decaying-
                                                       chandelier.

david wayne johnson*


                                                   yourfuckingstupid.
                                              ­                              

                                 ­                                                                 ­      i hate you.

so addicted to your love.

i'll wear your braclet of cherry beads.

Draw me a pretty pink heart

on my wrist
                                                                            so i can wear him
                                                                            under my
                                                                            sleeve.

The steel
is warnest
in the water.

                                                                                         -mouthless-

You kiss me
with cherry lips

Spitting out
layers
and layers
of me.

                                                                                        -stiletto sliting substratums-

The air is foreign

                                                                             curious
                                                                             hypocritical
                                                                             treacherous

                                                                                         -animalistic conspiracies-

i'll remain in
the water

                                                                                          -solace-


where there
isn't
too much to
breathe.


My flesh is weeping
pale tears


                                                                                          -surrendering-



                                           as another basin of
                                          cherry beads blossom.