There is this place I like to go
Where I hide inside my own dark mind

And pretend that I am Holding you

Instead of Hating you

And I would cry into your hair
And you would cry into my skin
And the acidic tears would burn my skin away
      So that you could climb inside

I’d lean over your pale shoulder
Sing you sweet love songs
      Sweet apocalyptic love songs
Because that is what we are,
We are love

We are the End of the World

And when our hearts finally stop beating
And your tears finally stop falling
And our bones would rest on each other’s
Like they’ve always done

And they will find us
The others will
      They will find us and they will scream
Because they will never understand
Understand that
You were always the queen
And I was always the king

And nothing NOTHING
Nothing else ever meant anything

I live in a doorway between two rooms
Suspended in a limbo where I can see everything
And nothing at all
One room ahead of me that is far too real
Riddled with babies and bombs and
Mommy, why is daddy gone? and
Ovens where women much greater than I
Closed the door to seal their tragic fate


I cannot see the room behind me
But I can feel the warmth of its ever shining sun
On my back, on my
Sore spine that longs for a cure
It is a room of dreams
Of unreachable perfection
Butterfly kisses from faery wings
Caress me softly, playfully begging me to
Turn around and kiss them back
But I don’t know how.

Let me go
I pray every night to wake in the morning
Shifted just slightly
Turned only inches
Away from the world killing me
To face the place where I can finally be
I pray every night to wake in the morning
In my tantalizing reverie
I pray every night to wake there
Wake there
Or don’t            wake

Look down.

I'm taking a drink tonight {just like every night}
One sip for me one sip for you
My little one
Do you feel the buzz yet, poppet?
Is your heart beating faster like mine is?
Let's have another glass//shot//bottle,
Maybe that will make things better.
Make things better for you, darling,
    That’s all I want
That's why I'm sending you away
    Pulling you out of me, where you should be
(Don't worry,
            I won't look at you when they put you in the trashcan)
The savior-trashcan rescuing you from
The downs syndrome that might have been
  [excuse me while I take a hit]
The retardation that might have been
  [excuse me while I do a line]
The angry disposition that might have been
  [excuse me while I take him in]
Oh, my little cabbage,
        Either thou, or I, or both must go
See, looky there, we have a little
  Shakespearean tale of our own
      Isn’t that nice?
Either thou, or I, or both must go
And no, I am not ready
As much as I crave the sound of
            the flatline,
I have no craving for MINE right now.
So drink, drink up and hold it in, little poppet
Drink from the poison of my blood
Drink up
Enjoy, darling little one.

Look up.

“Forgive her,
She knows not what she does,”
Cries the Martyr in defense of the Being that
Mangled, tortured, ***** her of
Everything.
“She Knows Not what she has done.”