Satanic goddess oh queen Isis
Aphrodite, my fingers fill her crevices
Twirl and twisting
Leaving us both gasping
I bend to her will
Beg to fulfill
Her deepest desires
So when she sighs
“Hurt me.”
I break myself
Splitting my soul asunder
Becoming thunder
As I crack

Can you feel the furnace
You seek to stuff my soul into
See the flames licking skin
How sickeningly you sit in
Your sixteen-foot-long pews
Listening to a preacher who spews
Vile lines of ancient lies
How you are devoted to him
Singing love and hellfire hate
In the same song

My meaning in life dissipates
Within my lack of discovery
Place cells eradicating memory
Like forest fire

i am a ghost story
a glass half full shattered on the floor
a dusty attic holding feeble bits of memories
memories like you and i firecracker fighting
being daydream drunk in the middle of the afternoon

i am weak
i cannot bear the weight of your eyes upon my body and so i breadcrumb crumble
ashes to dust
dust to ashes
onto your dank cement floor
and i see you thinking that if you clean it up fast enough no one will see what you are capable of

i was broken
once.

i don't even know what
i was before
maybe a vase or a
common water glass
a ceramic mug or a glowing
stained glass window.

i don't know how
it happened maybe i
got dropped or cracked through
contact or the temperature
changed too quickly for
my fragile self to handle.

and i don't know who or
what cracked me like my
twelve year old cd cases
or if it was a slow stress
fracture brought on
by myself.

but the signs are
there
that i was broken
once.

yes, i was
broken
once
and i am still
shattered
in my darkest places.

but i make a
**** good mosaic.