Dearest infested, do you too reminisce on that fated night,
When the beauty of your unstitched gaps in that storm’s occasional light
Shone brighter than my heart
As I held your severed hand in marriage.

Recall my fingers slipping under those sheets
Aching to pull you closer to me,
So close, I could feel in between your skin and bone
For me to caress your blackened inner soul.

No other will be capable of feeling the softness of your carcass,
Melted on my fingertips, ever so slightly crawling with goosebumps
From the maggots that shift in your decaying tissue,
Eating away at the core of your sweet bloated insides.

On that very bed, you hosted life beyond your bug-infested corpse,
Your unsaturated beauty animating a love as equal to mine
When lightning struck the tower’s wires
And pierced my heart with cupid's bow.

Oh how that shock stung my nerves!
Manipulating my madman mind into a loving machine,
One that could only want for your rotting embrace,
Which leaves the scent of death in every corner of my brain.

Did you notice the way the dark of the room hugged you so modestly,
As if you were already his?
And then you held out a cold hand towards me
Calling for me to put my ring on your delicate finger.

I remember your instantaneous joy,
Curiosity twinkling in your lifeless eyes,
Blushing from a heart pumping spoiled blood through your frozen veins,
And that smile, only a creature inhuman could smile so divine.

You, my sweet, have captured me in your rusted fingertips
And how you carry yourself across the bleeding carpet,
Dragging your decaying remains into my arms,
Making me unable to withstand being without your infected kiss

How irresistible you are before me
Adorned in white sheets, draped across your discolored chest,
Dried blood blanketing the edges of your lips,
A beauty that’ll never age, forever preserved by death himself!

Devour me now, my love!
Take me to the grave you plan to reside
So that I may lay next to you
Six feet under our wedlock.

At midnight, dancers dead
     A danse macabre dance
With each their dearest dread.
At midnight, dancers dead,
Spinning like spools of thread,
     Haunting a house in France,
At midnight, dancers dead
     A danse macabre dance.

Am I alive or am I dead?
About this much can be said.
If I was dead would I know?
I might think I am here and just go
into the attic as a ghost,
and sit there for years  or decades at most.
Not knowing that time went by,
sitting there not knowing why.
Ghosts have no concept of time,
letting centuries pass by.
But ghosts cannot communicate and talk
with those who are alive on earth and walk,
they could go into the light but do not,
so on the earth they remain caught.
If they go to the light they can see past family,
and others that they wish to see.
So dont end up in between alive and dead,
as a ghost as I have said.
Go to the light when you die,
so you will not wonder why.

September leaves on pavement granite, and bodies at war plight;
The dead don't always make a pretty sight

What happens when you are dead,
about this much has been said.
Most people think there is just alive and dead,
But perhaps they are incorrectly lead.
Another state I fear most,
is becoming what is called a ghost.
Not alive and not dead in afterlife,
A state where there may be strife.
Where they stay near their previous life,
So there are three states: alive on earth,
spirit after death in afterlife, and ghost.
A ghost is where you may not know you are gone,
gone to the great beyond.
So if you die head for the light,
you may fly there like a kite.
You can't take it with you,
whether it be 1 million or two,
So after one dies they find they will rise,
'the last bus out is leaving then,
they should get on it if they can.

i burn myself,
cover limbs in dirt

wrap my shoulders in cloth
and bury the dead.

bury the aching.
and the singe.

suffocate myself
by closing the coffin lid.

hope it will smother
the scent of my burning flesh.

i'm tearing hot flesh from warmed bones,
this is not living.

i do not know how
to extinguish the flame of you.

i would rather burn
then drown in the guilt of letting you go.

killer, i have your blood on my hands
and a pool around me.
no intentions of losing you today
but still i let the gray of sadness
devour me
until it convinces me there’s no one else.
and you were something of a stand-up guy
and i’m a woman who sits down quiet
and makes problems out of her tender relationships.
killer, i have nothing to say to you
after everything. i wished i used you instead
then you could hate me
and bruise my heart
instead of me bruising yours.
i have all these dreams where it goes right
and the ringtone reaches your little line
and the laughter flows like honey from the earth.
killer, i am such a danger to your vibrant fuse, your dance moves.
we are glowing stars blind to each other’s light.
i lie down in a pool of your blood,
ashamed that i had to take the knife
and force an ending upon you.
killer, how did i ever expect to be loved if i
i didn’t even welcome such a thing in?

wires in my head
acid runs through my veins
my body moves by thread
thy got me
they got me
they got me
now i am like the rest of them
lonely marionette