Where am I? It's like home
but it's so dark,
so dark and so empty.
I can still see the temporary tattoos
of your fingerprints on my flesh,
the nausea pooling within me,
my tense body screaming
for you to get away from me.
The way you heard another word
as my lips spelled out "No."
Now you sleep wondering
where you went wrong
and I lie awake wondering
what the hell gave you the right
to tear apart my flesh
with manipulative hands. I am only
half a woman.
The other half of my flesh
is swarming with searing
hot agony, agony which is quiet
and shows itself
in wild, trauma-worn eyes
and a drowning
heart. I should feel
angry but I only have vacancy,
and my mind is filled
with nothing except the dust
you left in my bones
once the cold, loveless
touch had left my body.

How can you tell me
that your truth is better
than mine?
Head to the floor,
hands on my heart,
you're burning my eyes.
You've blinded me now
and I have nowhere to go.
If only I had anything
to tear apart my apathy,
no one would know.

This is a second sky, where blue rises
above all else with lucrative secrecy
and darkness lurks beneath the clouds,
a universe where the atmosphere
is the darkest black and space
is the purest of blues. This is an unknown
place where fear and dominance rule
all that was once considered 'normal',
something you can no longer have
when the satellites turn their eyes
on you. Everything real becomes fake,
everything right is wrong,
and all you know
is that you know nothing
and they know everything. The hidden,
black, forgotten web of constellations
spelt out in dusts of white across
the blue night, where the featureless
omens of this reality circle
with crooked, evil wit,
is pulling me in with its charm.
Now, I am yet another fly
caught in the tides of this spider,
doomed to drown in silk.

There's a love blooming between us
that makes me feel as if
I don't need
the romance of old movies
and the warm hands of a friend
to hold in mine
might just
be
enough.

I live in a cracked land with glowing light
all around me as I hold my tools
with hands of broken polystyrene.
This is a world I can live in no longer,
where plants used to grow and the earth
was once rich with fertility. Now it is barren,
with death and decay spreading from where my body
meets the earth. I will never feel the soft
grass beneath my feet again - on impact,
I **** all life. Beauty is destroyed
and everything placed in my hands crumbles
and withers away into nothing. This
was once a place of wealth and plenty, where love
flew through the air and played like swallows
swooping and swerving
their way to freedom, but now
love has been forced into small, sealed boxes
stowed away in some decaying corner
of my heart. I still feel the way your hands
left burning trails across my skin,
the way it felt to see you looking
down into my eyes, but none of this
is alive. The way your eyes shone
is locked in a cage and is shattering
faster and faster with every desperate
touch from my plastic fingertips.
There is nothing here except the stretch
of polythene covering my mouth and restraining
my lungs, my screams.
Help me, my love.
The light is leaving my eyes.

A storm is boiling above my head, a
raging, red storm which has bubbled and brewed
in the skies around the place where I have
been ****** to for centuries. Electricity
surrounds my limbs and keeps me in the spot
where my hands have been nailed, standing barefoot
in an electric ocean which buzzes
and burns the skin off my feet. Like molten
wax, the sky drips down my arms over and
over until the flesh fades away and
all that is left is the sound of my screams,
tortured and angry, tearing apart all
physical matter around me. Metal
rain and anguish hit my body as power
surges through the coarse ground and I am left
as a sacrifice, with torn skin and lost
hope, underneath an eternal storm of thunder.

When I put my eye to the telescope
to explore the dark depths of the universe,
I see a man standing on Mars. He has
a sword in his hands and blood pouring down
his face. He is too far away to hear
but I know he is screaming. His war cry
writes itself across his face and those wild
eyes haunt me when mine are closed. They are white
with rage and filled with the brutal, violent
love of war. He has a beauty which is
old with skin that has turned into rubble,
skin the colour of rust. Blood is embedded
in his surface and creates cracks, edges,
borders to old rivers long since evaporated.
His body is laced with the order of
a soldier and War traces the smooth skin
around his lips. I peer at him through the
darkness as he sleeps and the violence seeps
into his dreams, singing its lullabies
of explosions and ******. He weeps his
masculinity into the earth and
slowly is pulled into the endless dust
which stretches its way across his planet.

There's a molten ground of explosions and fire
beneath my feet, somewhere
wretched souls go to manifest their hatred.
A light in the distance is slipping
from my fingertips
and I can't reach it,
it's flying beyond my grasp
and I am going to be left alone again.
I can't find the strength within myself
to hold onto it and slowly, oh
so slowly, everything
is becoming dark and dreary.
I am afraid
because there is a corner of my heart
which still feels
and it has been washed a cold,
fractured blue
whose song is that of broken
mirrors and bleeding hands.
Why can't I love?
Why is there a battle of lost,
defeated lovers within me
which never stops raging, a battle
of fear and pain and loneliness?
Why can I shine so brightly
to the newcomers yet become dull
and lifeless to those I have seen
every side of so easily?
Why is there no guilt within my soul
yet the dark truth of death
knits itself through my brow
and seeps into my lifeless eyes
with such haunting truth?

Little Wendy *******, coming up to play.
Walking up the hills, broken,
begging me to stay.
Little Wendy *******, needles to the skin.
Seeping, drip, seduction,
eyes that pull you in.
Little Wendy's soaking, she's drowning in herself.
Sinking, sinking deeper,
addiction beyond help.
Little Wendy's cloaking, she's hiding behind blood.
Dyeing her skin bright red,
swimming, falling up.
Little Wendy's dying, she's tripping in her mind.  
Shooting, lusting, crying,
nectar sweet and kind.
Little Wendy *******, pulse is always on.
She keeps on playing these games
until she's dead and gone.

Vanity shows itself in the smallest
fragments of her body, so subtle it
is almost invisible. Throw away
the measurements, the calculations,
and suddenly you will see ***, victory,
prosperity embodied in the sea foam
of her eyes. Your mind will circle
with body and beauty until you will
be found. She will expose you
for who you really are, someone who sees
all of the magnificent beauty of the sun
in their own reflection. She'll never learn,
she'll never learn. So we must shame her.
Push her away in fiery envy and
destroy her victory so the damage
is done and she cannot be healed.
Persuasion and shame
lick her lips with a cunning tongue, ready
to say whatever must be said in order
to convince me to love her
once more.
I will not heal her.
I will not heal her.

There was a gloom in his eyes. A dark, washed
out gloom where all colour faded to grey
and demons spun their webs to lay in.
An absent, forgotten realm of colour
crumbles away in his hands and becomes dust
slipping from his grasp as the cold, thieving
wind snatches it from his palms. Even ice
can't withstand the harsh, bruised winters
in his heart. It shatters with deep, gutteral
screams as the cracks reach to the core
of his world, a world of black and white
disintegrating with every rattled breath
he somehow manages to draw between
the dried, broken skin of his lips.
Life is not life, where each day is walking
into an ocean of dust
hoping to finally drown.

She has darkness surrounding her body.
Limbs of smoke,
Eyes of dust,
Beauty with blackest intention.
Blood coats her lips
And falls from her grace
With decadent
Delight.
When the light leaves your eyes,
You will hear her treacle voice
Drip and seethe
Within your mind
Until you find your nails
Tearing against your skin,
Stretching and stretching
Until the rending scream of metal
Shakes your bones
And draws mercury blood
Boiling in your veins.
She will take all you have
And leave you brewing in fear
Until the shadows come
To take your soul.
With no precious metals left,
You will dull
And lose your reflective surface,
Becoming a dark and cunning monster
Of greed
Just
Like
Her.

Flocked stitching looks just like the birds,
swooping and swerving, finding their way
to a better life south. They leave here
to a brand new world where flowers bloom
to a pure, dazzling white
and animals sing with the wind.
There, they will live in vivid colour
and cry with fervent joy.
They will rejoice in the pure green
and unite in song. When the time comes,
they will leave their southern home
and join us once more in the north,
where swallows skim the weary grass
and the spirits hum their ancient melodies.
Somewhere along the line, they will almost forget
about that paradise they found
so long ago, the paradise
that allowed them to outshine
an eternal winter. But, like all life,
they'll find themselves in a haze,
with blurred edges and foggy minds,
wandering over borders
with a thirst
to find the heat again.

You have eyes like needles,
pulling me together
into something cohesive,
something beautiful.
Soft silk draping from my arms,
cotton dreams, lavender goodbyes.
Canvas memories
written across my eyes
with the sound of sorrow weaving
designs into my skin,
let me in
let me in.
Feel the softness beneath your hands
as you fix my broken bones
with polyester thread,
look at me with your piercing
gaze and repair my wounded soul.
Create a work of art,
literature, mastery,
with the tide of your lips.
Stitches, stitches,
skin on skin.
Now I am changed,
reel me in
reel me in.

I may create and belong
and language
which seeps so effortlessly
may pull and bind my being into knots
but I bleed for knowledge.
My lungs fill with words and I choke
on memory as it hits me.
Mastery, meaning, crushing definition.
Division, collision,
a crash of colour and lightening
crushing my skull in anticipation.
Knowledge of death
worse than the idea of dying.
Nerves tied into knots
impossible to untie
unless I know the code,
electric pain
with my limbs
flush to the flames.

There's an avalanche miles above,
I can hear it. It was created
by my shouts of glee
cracking and breaking
the surface of the ice,
causing glittering universes to cascade
into the depths and extinguish
the fires of the ******.
The shadows are striping your body
into a silhouette, light hitting
nowhere, blind eyes gazing at me
in psychedelia.
There's a snowstorm inside you
and it's going to freeze
the chaos within me,
save me from them molten decay
burning its way through me.
I'm buried under decades
of ice, the brightest white,
healing me as the old sun
finally reaches my skin.

My body, my soul, my youth.
Young song pours from my skin
and weaves through the patterns
in my irises. I am beautiful
so she hates me. She curses me,
eating me up with her eyes,
eyes which are eating me alive.
She tears me apart
because she loves me,
I am too beautiful for her world.
She will dance in the winds
I make with my hands
and in the flowers which bloom
at my feet.
She will cry in the storms
I breathe
and the rivers
I sing.
She will know me and love me and run
away from me because my youth
is crawling somewhere,
somewhere where everything belongs
apart from her.

Brush my skin,
sepia freckles, moonlit paper.
Touch my face,
cotton cheeks, rosy hue.
Run your fingers through my hair,
silken and earthy.
Look me in the eye,
so bright, so blue.

I am sinking deeper,
beyond possibility,
into the grime.
Sloshing, dark waves are washing
over my body,
pale and thin,
and cleansing me.
I will treat it like I would the water
and bask in its horror,
metallic and harsh.
I will allow the copper flavour of blood
to rinse my mind.
Purity.
Feel the dry sandpaper skin
and the gravel in my eyes
as the rending of metal
tears my mind from itself
and I resurface,
gasping for air.

I feel as if you can tell that I've lost
my mind, my heart,
everything I moved for back at the start.
There is a rush of something unknown
within my body which takes me to dark
places, places of fear and pain and horror.
Places where your face turns to ash
when I'm not looking, where Death
holds my fate in its icy fingers.
I am intertwined with the shadows,
unseen gore dripping from my limbs
when I move, trickling through my skin.
Poison. I am being stained
by the black blood slowing me down
and as it heats up,
I feel it creeping into my lungs.
There is only so long before the cold returns
to save me from boiling alive.

I am afraid that when I cross your path,
the sight of me will lead you astray
as it did with so many other bleary-eyed
men looking for the newest drug
to glaze their limbs
and haze their minds.
I am a frenzy,
craze,
sought after delicacy leaving
the sweetest tinge on your tongue.
Wrap me around your finger and destroy
me before I destroy you,
leading you from your path
to the cliffs, rocky and sharp.
Watch you don't get killed
during the fall.
Land right
and the water might just
spare your life.

I'm in misery,
so please find a way to bring
my love back to me.

Before too long,
I'll fall in love with her.
Glorious as the summer wind,
bright and easy
to handle, she'll drift
and weep her joy
into my soul.
Before too long,
I'll fill myself with salt
and sing an ocean song
to catch her currents in my storm
and my heart will explode
when she touches my hands,
playing me like a piano.
Before too long,
I'll fall in love with her
just like she wants me to
and I will be left a fool,
stranded
in ice and brandy.

It won't be long
until I'm somewhere beautiful,
green, serene,
with clouds hovering
in front of my eyes to hide
phospherous tears.
It won't be long
until my eyes fade,
clean, gleam,
with speckled fireworks
bursting like life
in the midnight
of my pupils.
It's not far,
it won't be long,
I can feel it on the horizon.
I can feel the spark, the life,
the igniting sense of betrayal
warming me,
making me new again.

Little lady, devil in her heart,
holding you tight
for a chance at a new life.
Until there was her,
there was no weaving
deception. Tricking,
trickling, dancing
deception
winding around your lips
and drawing you in
with the current of her gaze.
No more death for her,
not a second time,
that's what she wants.
Theft, deft, sifting
through your mind
with trickster fingers
with desperation concealed
deep within her eyes,
always trying to find a way
to take one last breath.

Emotion carves itself
from the tip of my knife,
dripping with blood.
Darkness emerges,
lying awake,
screaming into a pillow
pressed over my face.
Smothering myself.
I will dream
to play the game of deception,
pretending I am no longer alive.
Broken, shifting ice creeps
beneath my skin
when you whisper to me
in your violent ways.
I hear your voice,
hurting me,
compelling me,
telling me.
So,
tell me why.
Smother my bones,
drain my life,
drink my mind
and tell my why life
doesn't work anymore.
I'll scream
with a bleeding throat
when you tell me why.
I'll scream
with ******
when you tell me why.
I'll scream for days
but I'll finally know why.
Smother my soul
and tell me why
as you feel my breath falter
and the spirit
leave my body.

I'm ready to leave here.
Her eyes, her mouth, her breath,
they despise me.
They loathe me.
Ready for exile,
I will be pushed from June
and into the arms of July.
I will lay there
until I suffocate,
spores taking over my body,
the ocean of the sighing
forest floor choking me,
waiting in wretched harmony.
I'll be dreaming of yesterday
as the claws of tomorrow
tear my body to pieces.

A violent need
Living inside my heart,
My spine,
Draws me to you,
Drags me to you.
Minds lost
To dangerous thoughts,
Eyes dark
With evil desire.
Rhyming bodies
Quick as lightning,
Alliteration with tongues,
Painting
With closed eyes.
Hot and cold shifts
To black and white,
Turning me
Into your prey,
Eating me alive.
Your teeth
Sink into my lip
And the taste
Of blood,
Pleasure,
Stains my mouth,
Making me beg
And beg
And beg
For more.

Wrap your arms around me
and trace circles
along my spine
with the soft skin
on your strumming hand.

Dilapidated. Dust seethes
within my lungs.
Gasping
for air, my hands
reach out to grab hold
of a better world.
Fading and old - broken
light tears me apart
for days.
Revealed rust,
dark eyes,
decrepit limbs.
Tumbling.
I am worn, weary,
filled with dust.
Thick, ugly dust,
choking me,
drowning me,
destroying me.

I want you to walk with me to somewhere
better than this, where the sky
won't be black as pain or tortured and blue.
You are adopting my heart
as you take it beyond the furthest reaches
of joy, to that place where your beauty
comes from. A land of music and freedom lives
within you and now I can see it.
I need you to hold me with those peaceful arms
cradling my weakened bones as you drape
your soul over mine to thaw it,
heal it, let its bruises fade. Keep me safe
when the blood stops flowing
and the tears stop burning
and all that is left is your fingers
brushing the tears from my cheek,
your concerned eyes on mine,
your tan skin glowing umber in the candlelight.
When your eyebrows fall
under the weight of my burden,
your sealed lips will trail
your dizzy thoughts across my mind,
words of beauty unspoken, heard.

Something igniting within me
constantly pulls them in,
a solar flare
drawing creatures of the dark
into my body. I am hollow,
skin worn
by the bodies of moths
to shelter themselves
from the darkness. I am a haven
of addiction, hooking
you on my light and drowning
you with my power. I switch
on in a heartbeat
and stay lit, eyes burning
with desire, hands shaking
with sacrifice.
Thistles embedded
in the palms, stabbing me,
clenching my fists into them
to embrace a darkness
I am unable to possess
within. Blood reminders
of what it once felt like
to be afraid and in the dark,
alone.

Watch out, boy,
the world is behind you,
holding you,
waiting for beauty to sigh
itself from your limbs.
I long to feel the
yellow music
seeping from your hands
in the pleasure
tingling along my skin,
the sound of your high-heeled
shoes as you dance to your song
bringing out the movement within.
I dream of seeing
the joy of performance
as you hold the guitar
which led you astray.
You're going somewhere, boy,
so watch out.
Pick your weapon wisely
and play it
with your heart shining
in your eyes
and your blood suspended
on your fingertips
until you hear that song
called 'applause'.

In my mind the music I write
is for an instrument that is not mine, unknown
to me. It cries and rings its wailing
tune and a chord of despair sings its way
into my core. I feel the pain
of the music I cannot write, the song of a million
cuts spreading its way through my skin.
Instead, my music plays through cracked sobs
with my instrument pressed
into scarred skin, tears mingling with blood
on the bathroom floor. I muffle it
so it remains my own secret, a song
for only me to hear. Music
makes no sense to me anymore, only
the sound of infection and dripping death hits
my ears. I look at my reflection, vacant, tracing
my used lips with blood stained fingers.
I am hollow.
No amount of heartsong
will fix those wounds.

His burning hands trace
spiralling trails across my body,
echoing my outlines
with fervent magma.
His fingers are magnets
drawn to my rough edges, cracked
hands of glass smoothing me over.
Try as I might,
I blink to the beat of his heart,
cry to the flow of his love.
I am no longer my own.
I was a girl
of the purest black and white,
living a grayscale life.
He is warming and heating me
to a vivid red,
eyes burning blue,
skin dark with desire.
He comes in colours everywhere,
purple joy, green mystery,
the sound of his eyes catching mine.
The reverberation of his music
is enough to stain my life
with colour more vivid
each time his hands meet my face
to pull it towards his.

I am on an island.
An island surrounded
by streets and houses, ebbing and flowing
with light. People crash and rush
through me and past me
yet I am still trapped on this island.
Everywhere is shared -
I am invisible
yet they are watching me.
My hands are shaking
and spilling the contents of this heart
over myself. They will see,
they will hear.
Eyes. Mouths.
Words pointed at me,
bullets waiting to explode,
tear through me.
Collision.
Breath like hot blood on my neck,
dripping into me.
An expanse of hollow space
filled with nothing but terror.

Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
floating, sinking, fading.
Mist seeping into your bones,
condensing within your mind,
confusion in the purest form.
Dancing fireflies taunting you
with their certainty.
Skin turning inside out
to the sound of your own song,
afraid of what those melodies might mean.
Until tomorrow
you will be lost to the night,
so enjoy the stars
shining their apologies
for leading you astray
and run your fingers
through the glowing water.

High in the clouds, above this town.
Lost and forgotten because I've been gone
so long. The dizzying
haze of stratosphere glues itself
into my mind and I reach boundless
heights, distances so far
your limbs would stretch
through time itself
trying to reach me. I'm gone,
speeding, don't shy away
from gazing at me in awe above you.
Scream in terror as I dive and swoop,
losing control,
dying.
Run in fear when I fly again anyway,
hooked on the high
of thin oxygen and silence.

My happiness is rising and I should be drowning
for lack of air. Endless skies are plummeting
below me at a dizzying pace.  Clouds
pass under my feet like cold breath
seeping from frozen lungs
and beauty is near,
I can feel her,
yet she chills me to my very core.
The earth curves away
from the point beneath me,
miles beneath me.
I just can't stop rising
and there's no way to return.
Mind sailing high
with limbs tied to weather balloons.

There are circles around my eyes that I trace
in dark streets, trying to find
my way home. A mind of clogged dust
settles on my shoulders, stagnant
and old. My hands are blue and heavy, slow
with ice. Hair hangs, sodden,
thick with burden.
My skin is rotting.
The sun winds around my body,
spinning me, dizzying me,
making me lose my way
as compass needles
stitch their tracks into the earth,
lines of misguidance
taking me absolutely
nowhere.

There are holes in the soles of my feet. Open,
bleeding holes. Their edges
are crusted with salt. Their silence
says everything about the nature
of my pain. I'm like a mermaid,
cutting my tail in two just for a shot
at somehow finding happiness. Feet destroyed
from the hot glass I walk on
to find you, hair clotted with blood
and heavy with agony. My legs are long
broken. They fall to the floor
at all angles, shuddering screams
tearing the earth apart around me like weak
skin being ripped open by a thousand claws.
Ocean waves drag my blood back with them,
possessive and snide,
waiting for me, wretched and pathetic, to die.

You somehow capture me in my essence,
revealing a beauty so profound
that I can't quite believe what I see
before me now. There is a sky above us;
filthy, full of words and phrases
which are unable to be formed
when I see you, walking, looking off
into the world with narrowed eyes
and the ignorance of how my eyes change
when I see you. Your face removes any analytics
which before dominated my mind and instead,
I stand dumb before you. I am unable to recall
your face for all of the power
it holds over me. I find myself
standing on the edge of us, ready to jump,
because I know that I will be able to fly
if you stand on the edge next to me.
Despite the despondency within me, I grow
stronger every time I see your deepening green
flitting across my eyes in the night,
every time we share a short second of eye contact.

I never expected to be the woman cauled in grace,
the tall beauty who caught herself in movement
elegant enough to make her a force of nature.
I drift through life like a leaf on water,
aimless and carefree. Words of ruth
tumble from me like a wolf howling in vain,
desperate to be heard. My youth has stained
the derailed girl I was when I was old.
Those crumbling bones were wrapped up
in an unexpected life - bones growing
into momentous trees, dancing
among the clouds like skyscrapers. I am
the floating girl wearing red in a sea
of black, melding and merging with the world
like the ever-changing depth of dappling light.
I am the beauty in a whirlpool of chaos, floating
out into the ocean, washing out to sea,
leaving only my handprints in the dust
and a train of thought woven
with the realisation of who I truly am.

Beneath this dress, there is matching red underwear to be found.
It says something about me, that I like the hidden parts
of myself to be the boldest. Perhaps I am wearing it only
to turn myself into a symbol of ***, a goddess
to be reckoned with, but I like the power that gives me.
Underneath the wine red fabric, I am utterly naked -
stripped of all that is my own and left, stranded,
a faceless body to be looked at. Beneath that
there is only skin,
yards and yards of skin, stretching
beyond horizons you couldn't possibly have imagined.
It glints with youth like dew in the light.
It is pale and untouched, mottled with veins and vessels
all carrying the same purpose: life.
I am haggard, crooked and old
but my surface is soft and warm to the touch.
I'm so smooth and perfect that if you strip me to my core
I'm like driftwood - misplaced and beautiful.
The grain of my body flows into knots and splinters,
twisted and graceful. I'm frozen in motion,
my limbs in shifting stillness, dance
captured in the undulating surface of my body.

Some girls know all of each others poetry off by heart.
They find assonance in their laughter.
Their linked hands echo in sybilance.
I sometimes sing as if I am one of them
but what if I can't hum on key?
What if my elegies are the ones nobody reads?
Words, words, words. They rush over me and out of me
to a dead audience.
There is no innocent brush of fingers
or sweet laughter, only the perverse desire
to write something more than myself
and wait for an empty orchestra of applause to greet me.
Perhaps if I write as I am
then I will become who I am not.
Perhaps I will become one of the poets,
harmonising in time with the rest of you.

She left her cave,
heart full of bones,
and unzipped. Her dress fell
to the ground. She stood, exposed,
layers unravelling in the sunlight.
Toes curled into fresh soil,
the smell of rain. Her body exploded
with bright, vivid colour.
******* bared to the whispering wind,
a bead of sweat found itself trickling
down the centre of her back.
Her arms stretched upwards as she
rejoiced the morning air,
laughing to the sky.
She stood firm.
Birds came home then left again.
Days changed to night then back again.
Winter came.
When the ice began to thaw, it started
at her feet.
She willed it to.
You can hear her peace
in the thrum of the ocean.
Her skin became the enticing
reeds, swaying to the beat
of the wind's drum.
You can feel her sorrow
in the cries of lonely wolves.
Her limbs became the stretched shape
of trees, making the horizon jagged
and green.
You can sense her anger
in the crack of lightning.
Her body became the earth, each
person born as one of her children.
You can see her, even now,
glowing with the sun and singing
to you in the morning air,
standing firm.

He was kind to me
Got me a special box
Just for me to sleep in

Gave me sweets

I called him Uncle

He cut my mummy up and
Experimented on my baby brother
Growing inside her
But Uncle said she had to die

The other kids were sent away
To the gas chambers
But Uncle liked me
Because I was blonde and pretty
And he was going to teach me
How to be a doctor like him

I'd have my tools and I
Could put other people's brothers
In jars to keep
Like he did with mine

He said I would be the first one
To have twins planted in my belly

Would they sprout like trees
In my stomach?

We had tidy beds there
And it smelled nice

My mummy and daddy are dead
And I loved my uncle
But it smells funny in here
And everyone is coughing

I think I can hear his voice
Calling me
And I want to run
But there are walls surrounding me
And I can't escape

His crazy eyes are following me
Until I collapse on the floor
Dead

They may look to the sky or to their reflections
in windows and water but I am only looking at you.
The way petals fall into the sky when the wind
pulls them apart or how colour seeps
into daisies has never intrigued me. Why would it
when I could look at you, the timeless flower
who takes language and turns it into a colour?
You never die no matter what the weather is,
blooming and blooming.
You make me try to blossom and become beautiful
even if I am wilted and ugly.
You see me as a flower too beautiful to leave
behind when it's you that is the beautiful one.
You're the flower I pick every time I see it
and somehow you never die
because your beauty is too intense to allow
your colours to fade,
so I'll keep you tucked behind my ear
and I'll sing with the swans
because your beauty is reflecting on me.

I stood, unseen, as the lights faltered and
I heard a heavy thud. A wave rushed through
me. My friend, out of reach, disappeared. Vapour.
The ceiling was gone - stars, stars. I couldn't
feel anything, it was all normal. Then,
the ***** came. It burned all down my throat
into my stomach, bitter bile tearing
me apart from the inside out. I couldn't
walk. Local hospital, apparently
I had a 50/50 chance. They filmed
me for evidence and I killed them in
the process. Cancerous. I was shipped to
Moscow, my wife being left in the dark.
Confidential. Contagious. Dangerous.
The ones who died were lucky, we were burning
alive from the inside out. My hair fell
from my body. My skin wept after the
false calm of nothingness. The dead skin fell
off in clouds of black dust, my flesh being
eaten and turning a violet black.
I can never have *** again, in case
I contaminate my wife. No more children.
Chromosonal damage. She was afraid
to touch me when I saw her again in
case she would die too. My skin will weep forever
and they call me one of the lucky ones.