Face the wall, sunshine
I wanna play a game
Don't peek through your fingers
Come out when you count through your anxiety.

Do you hear my heart quicken through the plaster walls?
I'm hoping anticipation lost its scent My feet shuffle quietly in the moonlight lullaby
Just tell me when you're ready
This fractured body twists to fit in your cupboards, by furniture that smells like old thoughts left lingering.

Trembling ticks roll by
While I wait patiently for
My welcome angel of death and grins
I'll hold my breath to beat this game
On repeat, broken records.

As my bones brittle, my strands dyed
Gray, I'll be here
Hiding in the tracks for your
Choo choo train
I swear I'll stitch my lips
Run me over, I won't scream
Whisper to me softly
Fire your gun through that checkered flag

The cold tile will never be sufficient to raise me from my post
Waiting for you to find me.
I'll be waiting for you to find me.

And I don't mind.

In between languages
I struggle to find those words, like a nervous tick
Flick of my pink tongue
To speak in your presence
Accents will do me no good
If my mind races faster than my heart and
My heart races faster than my hand
When my lips part
Vomiting swarms of insects, my throat burns into disappearing smoke
I'm a quiet daffodil being fed by
The mighty sun.

Holy water burns my organs
Replacing all liquids in my temple

Don't touch me or
You'll drown in my baptism.

En la madrugada, por las puertas largas de un cuarto desconocido
entra la aroma de tu enfermedad
rosas con muerte, esperando
tus lagrimas saladas no se me van de la boca
y los dias pasan sin sentido de realidad

Ya no trato de entender, no
pero salto, entrando cuevas negras y basillas
memorias como papelitos quemados
es mejor no saber
lo que pudo ser una vida
Platiada, sin manchas.

Accompanying the sheer blue dress, some earrings she found for 3$ at the thrift store.
Walking outside listening to the taps of her shoes, she gets in the car.
"Adjust mirror, adjust self. Hide your thoughts of immortality, this one's going for the punchline." The corners of her mouth itch, "scratch it until you seep red, scarlet like the lips you remember." She claws at her face, "rip the pieces of of of of of," repetition from the ugliness,"strip the dermis, drink the poison of your insides."
She was never fond of The Voice, but today ohhh today it can consume her in flames, melt and rot. "70 mph, no need to obey." Wheels roar loudly and smoke tastes so good, similar to the sound of creaking making her shake her head violently.
T-***** through the middle, sliced like a piece of cake.
"Haha!" Cheerful goodbyes!

THE VOICE IS STILL THERE.

Demented, bent, thoughts that don’t make sense
The firm grip that was on my
Bleeding walls
Sick from the memories of *****
Cigarette stench blasting in my room
Distorted languages of I love you
Static forming with an elegant bow
Adieu.

I found myself in the directory
With pink ink
Scribbled by blood
Of mental clarity