At 9 pm I take my meds
In one quick shot,
And they kick in too quickly,
And my heartbeat is slowing to a stop.

And so I grip my own hand
In an act of self solidarity,
And my mind begins to dance
To a sinister tritone
Of bleeding eyes, and dead eyes, and rot.

With one quick slash I cure my hand.
With agonising strokes I fix my leg.
And I lay back with pride
As red tears stream
From red faces, bright smiles
Laughing
Wide on my skin.

There you are, my love, my bane —
My everything —
You whisper sweetly in my ear,
Brush your lips to my cheek,
Dripping venom,

And into my side
You stab your claws —
Black, clean and pretty
And now silver, rusting red.

And you lead me to the window
So I follow the night breeze to a ledge
To a gate
To nothing more than a change of state.

The stars are whispering sweetly
In my ear,
In attentive scrutiny they stand.
Unchanged shall they watch
As below them I shall live
or I shall not.