Instability exposed
The grief I'd suffered
To the shambling wrecks
Like whimsical china.

Yowling, thrashing, squeezing me whole,
She's slashing onyx crevices, my soul,
Begging out, pleading forgiveness
But I won't give in, I just press
Down, fight now, hate this,
This thing, this misfit,
Crippled defect, this won't sit
By me, won't defy me,
Rip my nails down crusty
Skin, she feels sick, I feel quick,
I dig deep and can't keep
From hissing, it's ******* me off!
She cries but it makes me scoff.
You pretty little folded bird,
I'll smear you like a ******* ****.
I hate you, I hate me,
So help me, I can't see,
I can't bleed,
I won't heed
Your cruel trick,
You foul ****!
Despise me!
I hate me!
I hate me!
I can't
See
I
Can't
Breathe...

Mirroring what's bright
With dead unassuming eyes,
Its life dwells only out of sight.
Swallowing  the blackness of the room
It appears to writhe, silently shifting,
A child's gaze on a rotting face
Waits patiently for something
It doesn't know, and absently scratches
Deep gashes into its cheek.

Eyes so serene as your body relaxed,
your passing never passed until
a gravestone was all I had.
An edged slab of marble
unwelcoming, cold,
won't compare to the lingering life
so close to behold.
I miss how I missed you
when I missed you the most,
as love's just crux howls
only when losing its host.
Thus through such virtue
I could lastly accept mine,
enough so to nurture,
and cry for my Pieta
one last time.

Intangible facets of chaste delicacy
dance under the curtains in poised stability;
shattered, self-battered, strengthened it may,
those fine lines, those fissures, his cigarettes portray.

This door you might not open, and you did;
  So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed. . . .  Here is no treasure hid,
  No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
  For greed like yours, no writhings of distress,
But only what you see. . . .  Look yet again—
  An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
  Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
  Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
  This now is yours.  I seek another place.