Strapped and bound to the wall
a game of ******* and chains, as
solitude light casts shadows
on an abomination's remains,

I gaze into the mirror on the wall
my troubled face pasty as sour milk
and the laughing glass laughs, taunting
from beneath a surface as smooth as silk

for within its nether-twine frame
thy carbon copy mimics my reflection
spun from a festering web of sorrow,
and tainted by prolific perfection

the accusations of people that have been cast
through my estranged blood it runs,
for bending both ways is despicable
and to do so I might as well kiss their loaded guns

and as I stare at my sorry reflection
I see juvenility, excitement and confusion
daggers of shame piercing my eyes,
the skin around blackening from their intrusion, and pathetic lies

oh yes change is strange
and as humans we naturally fear
but love is such a word now often unheard
causing the laughing glass to leer

and now when I look at myself
I don't see who I truly am,
that, beyond their cackles and conniving remarks,
I am actually so much more than -

I see a stranger, a ******, a mistaken queer,
the number one prestigious freak -

but from the shadows I will rise
and from my heart I will finally speak.

I'd give up eternity
to see you,
of the fortunes of gold,
of undeniable power and might -
I'd give up,
you were my everlasting light.

From this world,
you're now absent -
that mellow morning you parted,
my heart, it's bleeding
so did started.

Sophie,
you were my one,
my only trophy.

Sophie,
you're now one in a thousand,
but still my only.

Now you have no colour
in your cheeks,
your body has been dry
for almost several weeks,
and your once perfumed breath
now rots and reeks.

Sophie,
you've grown so bony,
your golden hair now looks fake,
so thin and phony -
but although you're now dancing
with Death,
and breathing that rotten breath,

Sophie,
you'll always be my one,
you'll always be my only.

WARNING - Hints at suicide

Corpses floating slowly above the waters,
swollen and bloated pachyderms -
my dreams curdled septic and dying
polluted to death with stagnant germs

so many of my ideas and glittering hopes
now smothered, tainted vile,
the insides of my twisted and torturous soul
just stinking, liquified to nothing but bile

countless negatives and secrets
past and present unwanted strangers,
bringing both temptation and sin;
writhing with sumptuously naked dangers,

sometimes I get fleeting thoughts that seem promising,
break into my mind shouting "Como Estas?"
Alas, within a few seconds they stick
in the large web where everything rots and festers

for my mind is sick,
demonic giggles echo down the corridors of my head -

just another ****** night

where I wish I was dead.

AJ

[Inspired by Them Crooked Vultures; Elephants - "Pachyderms of germs, unable to hide or even dream of it." One brilliant song]

Meet Doctor Montgomery
with medical science he knows best -
a figure that some worship
and others detest,

for in 1974 he was revelling in his prime,
studying Biological Science at Oxford university
life was smooth and incredibly sublime.

Alas, he fell as a ****** addict,
seeking hidden answers,
that not even modern science could predict,

performing back-street abortions
bringing in the money -
by 1976 addiction was in full swing
and his wife had noticed something funny

and upon the Eve of that Halloween
she'd just had enough -
took the axe from out back to his study
but the blade was blunt and the oak door too tough

however her efforts were in vain
as Charles immediately opened up to greet her -

"My love, look -" He whispered,
gesturing to his centrepiece glass table
whereupon sat
a linen covered cradle -

slowly she peered in,
ignoring his entranced stares -
and what she saw wrapped in blankets,
was the seed of nightmares.

For Charles Montgomery
had been practicing the work of witches;
collecting deceased babies,
and sewing life together with surgical stitches -

"Do you like it? I made it for you..."

She gazes around, speechless,
eyes blurry with stars -
shelves and cabinets full
of body parts preserved in jam jars

throwing up at his feet,
going mad with depravation -

"Oh Charles -

IT'S AN ABOMINATION!!!"

A gem now forever taken away,
her disappearance shrouded with lies;
a psychotic mother pulling the strings
using mental illness as a tool for her disguise.

One disgustingly twisted Succubus,
neglecting her only daughter, an unwanted child,
unable to control an anger
blistering within and furiously wild.

Emma was the girl's sweet name,
she was beautiful and normal
but unfortunately her mother was completely insane -

not caring for her daughter
she drowned her in ***** bath water,
thus from then on things spiralled into blackened disdain.

And sometimes I lie awake, stare at the blank ceiling,
wishing the girl had never been born
thinking, perhaps, that the arrow of death might've missed her -

sometimes I lie awake at night,

and cry for my beautiful late sister.

AJ

[For you, wherever you are X]