She stood at the edge of a deep rock
leashed to the side of the sea
with foam biting at her feet
and waves barking at her.

She breathes a salt stenched air
and watches its jaws open
only to see a sailor
rotting between its teeth.

She swallows air whole,
call it courage or stupidity
but she takes a step towards it.

Now the hound named
"Sea"
became full
once more.

Rotting means having your brain
collapse in on itself in a grey gooey heap.
It means your eyes
falling apart and your tongue swelling up
and bursting
under the weight of a thousand maggots.
It's cutting your stomach into ribbons
and letting it shrivel into nothing.
It's letting your bones wither and crack
and your hair fall out
and it means curling up into a
dry
dusty
gooey
broken
slimy
oozing
ball.
I think I'm rotting.
Please help me.
Please help me,
I'm rotting.

Disgusting
Unpleasant
Rotting
Selfish
Materialistic
Disrespectful­
Weak
Desperate
Rude
Arrogant
Controlling
Racist
Deceitful
Vermin­ous

Cradled by there eyes
as they convulsed me
                  in to oblivion,

with every downfall I was
closer to
              nihility.

Pools of crimson collected in
   my fractured sockets and
my tears
                       drowned within.


They mourned my silence,
       inscribing one last syllable
upon my stomach...
As blood flourished forward from
                                  my dead lips.

Droplets were like rain descending,
as I painted the surrounding
                                           with death.
They were covered also,
for they were close to the cradle
                          when it fell silent.

I kissed each one with claret,
     my mark was upon there façade.

Wild flowers drank upon me,
       seeding them with my last breath.
Where beauty once flourished,
Now blushed roses grow.

I'm a garden of remembrance
to what was,
                    what never shall be.

But my death has sweet aromas to it,
       for all one at a time came to see
What had befallen me.
              Guilt, remorse or curiosity..

To hide a truth, others may fall upon.

But where they expected death,
                                     they saw,
a sight of maroon beauty.

"Curiosity is a  live wire in water,
            with a please read note floating
above it.

           "*You know there going to read it,

And with that, they picked a rose pricking
there finger upon my vengeance.
I could ******* aura that I kissed upon
there last actions
                             so long ago.

There was no scream, just like you can't hear
             a tree fall in a silent forest.

I now feed upon them, for there all here, in
my garden of eternity rotting slowly..
   But there still alive under the surface..
my thorns negating there vocals.

       I'm there cradle and I'm rocking it,
                                      oh so slowly...

A crow kissing skeleton skull
   And pecking dirt in the process.

Lace my ashes with flower seeds
   So that I may live a little longer.

I'd love to feel the rain
  Drip down my veins once again,
And make-believe the strid formed
    Will never dissapear. But

The dead don't get to decide that much
   Ahead.
Crow bleeding sunny black eyes, sing a song
As we

         Cross into morning. Crow, that maps my skin
          In sanskrit, please go a little softer. It's not
          That I never expected to die, it's just that I
           Never pictured it so sudden; and it's still

So long to go until I'm found...
Crow, would you be so kind as
To keep me company until then?

You're gone
You left me
Now I'm standing here
Lonely
You don't own me
But you showed me
How to be
A little happy
I'm sorry
For being sappy
But you moved on
To someone sadly

I tried twice
And again nothing
A blank stare
In silent suffering
Not left to die
But surely rotting
Away my mind
My heart unloving

You're gone
You left me
Here
Lonely

But oh,
How would my chest feel if it caved in on itself?

The sheer overwhelming feeling of falling,
stomach lifting into my ribcage, lungs into my mouth

How would it feel if it all came out at once,
If I enveloped myself, starting at the throat
I’d get such a sick pleasure
knowing that the blood in my veins rushed to my ears as I ran my hands through my scalp and have them land on my throat
I don’t want to breathe,
I want to be light headed and miles away from a betraying body

A pipe to run through the top of my hip bone,
run a fishing wire through it to catch the cares I once gave
I want a pile of bricks to smother the bones below my breast

Cut my spine clean in half and
I’ll marvel at the sky above me and
I’d never move from that spot

Leave me to stare and stare at a sky that’s as unforgiving as the passage of time
Letting my skin turn to leather and my blood to rust

I’d smile as grass grew through the holes in my ribcage
I’m part of something larger than I am,
a body that experiences death in its own time–
What an adventure it is to rot as I live!