he strung pearls round my neck
and I strung him from a tree
as he choked his final breath
I crooned, “save a spot in hell for me”

a kiss of red upon his cheek
the ghost of lust haunting his lips
as imprinted on his memory
as the bruising fingers on my hips

he thought me as a canvas
he could paint to be refined
pretty to be looked at
touched with detachment of the mind

the fool should have kept his pearls
and found another portrait to admire
for if you give me a golden candle
I’ll set your world on fire

White as the ticking clock face
You struck me. Violent.
Like running seconds dripping away.
Red fell from your lips
and ate my heart.
The numbers framed your face.
All dark ebony,
Dark and sharp enough to cut.

I’ll stand,
an awkward flower amidst your thorns
Perhaps a touch battered;
Most definitely worn.
Red and invoking dreams-
I’ll stand.

Thread knuckles into notches of your spine,
you were mine.
Held down as carotid fought hard,
to keep open your eye.
Staring vivid as clouds overtook.
I can taste you through your musk,
hear the quivering in your thigh.

Stomach acids crawled into your nose,
and petals bloom. Belly aflame,
throat bleat with each beat.
As vision tunneled from expanse
to pinhole spindle of our room.
Bared teeth like a wild animal,
eyes wide with excitement.

If you could breathe a word your smile soon'd fade.
Porcelain comtesse cum undress with maroon'd face.

paint me the colors of the rainbow
cover all my dullness,
all my grayness

make me a mask of colors
make it happy
no sight of sadness should be there

make my clothes gleam and glow
to shine away all my flaws
as it is expected that my body will be perfect

make my shoes shine bright red
like those of dorothy's
to hide the red blisters they are causing

paint me the colors of the rainbow,
make me shine bright
to mask all the pain

Blood on the floor,
Knife driven in,
Feel the cold metal,
Piercing through my skin,
You watch me suffer,
You spit in my face,
‘Til I can no longer feel,
Life’s sweet embrace,
Redrum in your eyes,
Red blood on the floor,
It seems that for me,
Life has shut it’s door.

When that blood flowed green
And trees were red
Skin was bark all hard
weathered showing
The marks of hurricanes
The dearths of rain
Skies glowed orange in night
And gray each day
The lakes all turned inside
Out where blues were down
And brown silt atop
The roots of things grew up
And flowers down
Bodies dead were above ground
People like moles once did
When the sun was yellow
And not her now deathly gray
People went underground
To live
Where dirt was white and grass
Was the ceiling
And not a day was recorded since
The day the
Colours
Turned around.