all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met

friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning

i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you

i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously

all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them

and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own

I kneeled on the polished wood floor, panting and sweating. My body was writhing in pain, having been mercilessly beaten two masked men; I knew not who they were or why they had come for me. Nor did I know where I was now. I didn’t know anything anymore; everything was drowned in a rising sea of confusion. There was nothing but my battered body, slowly letting forth blood and the wooden floor, gluttonously sapping the heat from my hands and legs and hoarding it within its cold, polished surface.
My ears perked as I heard a noise outside of my elegant prison. As I strained my ears to their fullest extent, I almost grasped what the sound was. Soon, there were several noises and they were louder than the original one. After an unknown period of time, I recognized the sounds as speech even though I could not understand it. Fear swelled within my heart. I feared that the goons who had battered me and sealed me in this room were among those who conversed in the hallway and what horrific things they would do to me if they returned. I prayed for the voices to stop, for them to leave. I waited for the worst, but prayed for the best. I silently and fervently prayed to a God that I only halfway believed in.
Silence. My prayers had been answered. I let out a sigh of relief. It was the first unrestricted breath I had taken since my troubles began. I savored this breath; I inhaled solace and exhaled fear. I rose to my knees and straightened my weary back, feeling the bones crack several times. How wonderful it felt to be upright again!
The doorknob clicked. My eyes darted toward the door. Almost immediately, five men entered, all of them splendidly dressed. They walked with elegance, like kings. Two of them stood at the back of the small room, their eyes watching me like those of a bird of prey pondering ******* a rat. A large man approached me, slowly but menacingly with his great girth shifting with every step. I felt my body tense as I waited for him to strike me. Even with this, I noticed the other two men standing in the corner, continuing their conversation. I tried desperately to listen in. Perhaps they would mention why I was here? But no understanding was to be gained as I could not understand a single word. I recognized the language, however, was Mandarin. Without a moment’s notice, I felt a shove and my chest and face came into an abrupt and painful contact with the floor. It took me a moment to realize that the fat man had kicked me. He shouted at me, in an unintelligible anger. I rose back to my knees and hands and looked into the face of my assaulter.
He was massive. His body was that of a great pig in an elegant, well-tailored suit. His skin was a very tanned yellow and his hair was combed back. He had an upturned nose and small, accusatory eyes glistening with ire as he looked down upon me. He stood before me with a sinister smile as my eyes wandered to his hands. I watched as he ran a fat, jeweled hand over a gorgeous cane. As he continued to stroke the cane, I wondered how he would abuse me next. He circled me once and stopped at my side, his patent leather shoes shining brightly. I could see nothing else of him but his shoes. At that moment, he shouted something at me, and beat me with the cane.
I could not understand his question. Had he asked me about drugs, embezzling, money? I knew nothing of such matters, for I was a simple person. The second I replied “I don’t know”, he struck me again and again, over and over. He soon began to kick me simultaneously, until I collapsed back onto the floor. My stomach and legs had had about all they could take. I was already bruised and I could feel my bones aching. I began to cry. I thought of my husband and my daughter and wondered if I would ever be able to return home. Surely they would wonder why I had not returned home by now and would worry. I somehow believed that I would not ever see them again. It was a terrifying thought.
The pig man began to giggle hideously, his voice gurgling and unpleasant, sounding simple-minded and unrefined. He then began to **** my shoulder with his magnificent cane as he began to tease me, like a demented child. I thought him to be a savage, uncivilized and impolite. For some reason though, I could not completely fear him; I could only hate him. One of the two men in the corner addressed me, and scuffled to my front. His plain face addressed me with a cool and aloof manner, showing neither disgust nor compassion. His spoke to me with a tone that was calculating and observatory and it made me long to know what he was saying even more. But somehow, I welcomed his presence. He was so much less offensive, not striking me or adding to my confusion. He turned away and addressed his companion, who was now seated at the beautiful mahogany desk at the front of the room. His gestured to me rigidly and spoke smoothly to the man.
I could not see the other man particularly well, as the room was dim and most of his form was hidden from me by shadows. How I wished they could have hidden the pig man as effectively. The cold man then knelt to my level and my eyes rose to meet his. I was afraid of what someone so stoic would do to me. I knew not what he was thinking. His slender lips parted.
“Do not fake ignorance. We know it was you.” he said slowly, the words slipping from his lips like water. I was relieved to discover that one of them spoke English. Perhaps he could help me understand why I was brought here.
“What was me? I have not done anything! I promise you!” I had no earthly idea what he believed I had done. I was completely ignorant. I wracked my mind, hoping to think of any obscure reason as to why they had apprehended me and what I might have done to anger them so. His eyes never left mine. He slowly blinked and reopened his eyes. They were cold and unforgiving, shining brightly like black, polished beads. I felt shivers travel down my spine and into my legs. His blank stare somehow felt like a death sentence. He rose and continued to speak to the man at the desk, who was shuffling through papers, and rummaging through what I believed to be a cash box.
With a quiet emission of speech from the man behind the desk, the room grew silent. He rose from the desk and floated over to my limp body. His feet glided gracefully, always stepping perfectly. With only a short phrase, the cold-eyed man walked away. I panicked. He was the only one who could understand what I was saying. I scrambled after him, grabbing onto his leg, begging him to allow me to accompany him to anywhere but this frightening room. Without so much as a glance at me, he shook his ankle free and departed. I felt my only chance at freedom leave with him. A chill passed through my body as I submitted to silent desperation. I lowered my head and cried.
The man gestured me back to him, calling to me in his exotic language as he switched on the desk lamp, allowing me to see him. I was nervous from having seen the two goons at the back of the room. His appearance alone was a relief. As I crawled toward him, I felt that I was meeting a god.
He wore a red silk jacket, embroidered intricately and elegantly with gold flowers and calligraphy that I wished I could read. His hand bore a simple ring, silver with a round stone in the middle, obviously jade. His face was no less impressive. He had smooth pale yellow skin and pleasing brown eyes, large and misty. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. His smooth lips were wrapped around a long and slender pipe. I watched him inhale and exhale a dancing little cloud of smoke, admiring how gorgeously his chest rose and fell. He looked somehow lukewarm, neither kind nor cruel, not gracious or threatening. He spoke briefly to the two men standing steadfastly at the back. I immediately knew that the graceful one was the leader of this group.
One of the two men grabbed me by my arms, shocking me while the other proceeded to unbutton my ripped and sullied shirt. Why were they removing my clothing? Were they planning to **** me and dispose of me afterward? I feared the worst as they removed my shirt and bra, revealing my upper torso and proceeded to roughly remove my pants as I struggled to free myself. Once I was completely naked, they released me and I crouched upon the ground and cried. Soon, they would have their way with me. One of the lesser men picked up my clothing and inspected the pockets as if he was searching for something. Whatever he was expecting to find was beyond me. I looked back up at the beautiful man, wondering what horrors he had in store for me. His eyes met mine and we both stared for a long time; our gazes were only interrupted once we heard the crumpling of paper.
The both lesser men were inspecting a sheet of paper that they had found in my pocket. One of them waved it about triumphantly and handed it over to the boss. He too examined the paper as an expression of mild confusion overcame his round face, like a moon as it waxes and wanes. Once he grew frustrated with the paper, he handed it to me speaking in his foreign tongue. I did not need a translation, he wished for me to decipher the paper somehow. I inspected the paper with weary eyes and gasped. It was a shopping list! I tried to explain to the boss that the contents of the paper were merely what I planned to purchase for tonight’s dinner. I could tell that he did not completely believe me. His eyes grew suspicious and uncertain. I felt that somehow, this man’s displeasure would be enough for him to end my earthly life.
He took the paper from me and twirled his pipe in the fingers of his opposite hand. He picked up a piece of paper from his desk, comparing the two papers as he delicately balanced his pipe between his teeth. The look of confusion vanished from his face, looking as if he deciphered my language. Perhaps he would set me free? Surely, he could not draw a valid conclusion from a shopping list. He spoke to his subordinates with resolve and confidence, seeming somehow certain of something. He spoke like he uncovered a key detail that unlocked a great mystery. I knew not what he was speaking of, but I knew that he had decided what to do with me. I was somehow more afraid than ever, thinking that he would somehow ****** me, despite my innocence. He kneeled to my level and took my face into his hand and plunged his hand into one of his pockets. I feared that he would pull out a gun or a knife. I snapped my eyes shut, and was afraid to open them again. He spoke a benign and gentle-sounding word and immediately, I felt something graze my face.
Against my better judgment, I opened my tearful eyes, and saw that he was wiping my face with a handkerchief. He wiped my tears away from face. After my face was clean and dry, he swept my hair from my face. I tried to decipher his eyes, looking for a twinkle of kindness of a glint of malicious intent. He gave no such signal. Instead, he placed the handkerchief into my hand. He rose, looking mighty and fearsome and rose his pipe to his lips, but not taking a puff. Even though he looked non-threatening, his lack of emotion baffled me and I was somehow more afraid than ever, despite his fleeting moment of kindness. He rose an elegant and slender hand and waved dismissively toward me. He gestured to the two men and pointed toward the door. He was completely silent. I was about to be taken away.
The two subordinates grabbed me by the underarms, one on each side of me and stood me up clumsily. I watched as the gorgeous boss began to inhale slowly, savoring the flavor of his tobacco. I somehow felt that his breath was connected with my life, that I was doomed to die the moment that little puff had been expelled. The men began to drag me away with my bare heels dragging along the ground. I watched the boss desperately, praying that he would say something that could save me as the goons dragged me over the threshold of the door. One of them placed a bag over my head just as I saw the boss emit a thick smoke which masked his face, the way that clouds hide the elusive moon. I was blinded, but knowing that I was about to be killed. I did not need any clues to be sure of it. The boss had exhaled and I knew that by the time the smoke had cleared, I had vanished from his view.

drowned the Earth suddenly.

  underneath honest light,
                                  all
   submerged. this cataract of feeling —
waters pursue beginnings. cradling them
to unknown ends, washed by the shore.
        gluttonously the night swallowed
all — parliament of birds warble no longer.
             midnight, the   Moon
claws the supple skin of organized stone
  displaced
               where all the edges bloom
forth torrid froth of dappled light which kills no less than a brief life of matchflame. tenuous spar of wind on
the unserious twilight; bulge of death
in the stream — a body haul, rafting
  in compost; stench of all topple like
resins held loose in vats. rat **** becomes
           as inviting as moulding bread;
tantric music for no instrument, hoarse
cries unbeheld —

            until the flesh no longer flounders
pressed against sleep-shaped youngness
hewn lissome in the hours of no succor,

       modeling silence in the thrill of
this enthusiastic space,
           hands scouring muddied
  obscure, atremble,
      shadowless hours fill stomachs with
the plump word of rescue yet none
  of these fingers unwished the
ingenuity of dull gods — this twilight
  nor twinight could ever grive
in forethought, striking bells to signal birds
         to arrive again so we could feast
in  silver  fish, with bare hands scaled to callouses,
    
      looking at it twice-over, this battered yolk
of whiteness, with deeds of the viridian
   now atrill in new fragile woodworks

       lurching and
         ameliorating as we all
    stutter and sing
       haunts dabbing open
  lips of small wounds that
   wish to shut quietly,   almost
every threat of gray     or pummel of
   wind startles the flyblown ornate,
  
   hurrying us back to cornerless homes
where all photographs washed away,
    very few hang
               swayed by verdure
  of the gradual throne of sea
        curving perpetually the several stars
we have ignored for a while,
     where everything quite begins
    again to enthrall with a melodic
  leitmotif of the most tender of
       instances loose
            in mouths
                 and in endless recall
                  
                                               breathless—

Water of remembrance sprinkled
On the mountain crest of recollection.
Indulgent mussy memory catapulted
Stones of retentiveness into the
Courtyard of events like bricole
Of battles.
Pendulum of reminiscences swinging
On oscillating milage of roads like
Trotting horse with drippage of sweat
And itching foots.
Ghost of reminiscences restlessly
Roaming with carriage of yesteryear.

Final year educatees required
Boardinghouse,
But list of items engorged dear
Mother's treasury

"where do l raise money
to buy oyinbo mattress, Ilori?"

Mind pullulated with weariness.
Intonation of worries.
Cantillation of wants.
Deficiency of measured means.
Oyinbo mattress beyond ladder
Of reach.
Gluttonously waiting to devour
Lesser items,
But rays of compulsion unslammed
The gate of respite.

Lordly arrival warmly welcomed by
The dorm room's porter,
Walking majestically to the bed-space
With the acquired cotton wool and raffia leaves mattress.
Gamut of items passed through the eagle's eyes of the housemaster.
Silver painted pail donated by a neighbour passed through the sentry of inspection,
And got its admission.
Mother's used cloak turned bedsheets
Passed through the rigorous scrutiny.
Newly built portmanteau unlocked and neatly dissected, item by item.

Agazed eyes focused on the cotton wool and raffia leaves hand-made mattress.
Expectations rattled mumbling astonishment.
Legs stuck in the mud of mystification.
Telepathic dews covered ocean of thought.
Tranquil silence engulfed vicinity,
Deflating the balloon of hope like a litigant awaiting verdict from the jurist's chambers.
Porter's gesticulating gesture connoted nothingness of demeaning disapproval, perambulating on the hilly terrain of approval.

Akimbo stood l.

Now the verdict!

Molten volcanic magisterial command erupted in a gestapo gesture,
Spudding out from the barytone's baritone voice from the selfsame housemaster,
From the bastion of authority,
And the house generalissimo like a wild brant squalled, matter-of-factly,

"we do not accept bed bugs cotton wool and raffia leaves hand-made mattress here".

Entreaties collapsed.

A nascent society gluttonously feeds
on the palingenesis of hyaline paragons
forged by stolid and archaic eremites.
A whilom friendship leaks a susurrus
of tristful regret,
while pernicious ***** maunder
puerile attacks on munificent
intellectuals who only wish to
augment risible souls and divagate
from vertiginous roads too often traveled.
Such a chimerical respect for tradition
is too rigid to be broken alone.

I feel no pity...No remorse, nor shame...As i put them to the stake...
Hanging them up by their necks... setting their bodies ablaze..Grinding their ashes between my fingers... before mixing them with my supper.

Am i depraved? Am i what remains.. when the blood of dreams have spilled out of me....
And the darkness took shape... giving birth to despair...

And with its birth amidst my blood and *****.....I also ******* all that humanized my soul.Such is the fate of the slaves....I feed of them to sustain myself a little longer...
A sad comfort i find within the tomb of my hollow shell...The rancid smell of their burning flesh brings me back to my inner battlefields..A fading flame of humanity has all but illuminate the way back...

Am I to be dragged upon the altar and submit myself to the thralls?I feel the lash carve open my flesh and tearing my muscle..Nothing but muzzle flashes as i faint from sight..

Awakening at the sight of flesh flies feasting on my festering wounds..I am consumed alive amidst the filth and dirt i left behind...And am exposed for the maggot i am on the inside....

My consciousness evaporates into the faint smell of burning flesh...

Drooling with ravenous hunger.. I gluttonously gorge myself and snarl at the hand that feeds me...Like the ghoul i am... I drool at the sight of the master throwing his dogs a bone...And if he wants me to roll over and play dead...I shall not doubt nor neglect....I will submit myself to his will.. and undergo the bereavement of my innocence.

Until I blossom like nightshade...and reach my full potential...

And i will be burned as incense and my ashes processed in a final supper for all to consume.

A nascent society gluttonously feeds
on the palingenesis of hyaline paragons
forged by stolid and archaic eremites.
A whilom friendship leaks a susurrus
of tristful regret,
while pernicious ***** maunder
puerile attacks on munificent
intellectuals who only wish to
augment risible souls and divagate
from vertiginous roads too often traveled.
Such a chimerical respect for tradition
is too rigid to be broken alone.

One moment of pride
Unmasked the disgraceful lust
Releasing the auto imposed sloth
Impetus envy and gluttony were the driving force
Unleashing the wrath hidden within
Greedily buried and contained

I became an outcast
A skeptical sinner
Forever to walk on my own
Condemned to eternal damnation
Unless I repent

But I am just a human
Envious of the wind that can flow and be
Proud of who I am
Lusting for freedom
Sloth to follow the rules
Gluttonously enjoying each jiffy
Reacting with rage to the auto impose limits
Avariciously living

I am a human
An unleashed dreamer
Fully living

If willing
Their belief
On almighty
To relinquish
And  from
Their soul
For lucifer
Proffer
A special dish,
For a while,
Devil will not be
Unwilling to grant
Sorcery and occultism
Blindfolded fools
The financial bonanza
They gluttonously wish
Or an earthly pleasure
They die to relish.

But at the height of
Their self contentment,
With a stab on the back
With a sharp knife
Satan will ramshackle
his subject's life.

Devil could
Not be God
However hard
he play-acts
When approached
Ensconced on his abode.

You took everything
and returned to the scene
To take home some images of victory
and I knew too late what happend
Staring right into your eyes as the realization ended
All I could do was try to look anew
Attempting not to bleed right through
While I splashed about in shallow waters
I'll just have to learn how to go without
The shame in this game will never max out
and you left me there weeping
Sold me cutthroat trout
I ate it up
Gluttonously
Then spit out the bones of the person I used to be
She's so far from me
I ode to the quicksand beneath my feet
To the weasle who found a way into my keep
The racoon who robbed me so blind
and left me defiled morales
Now left behind and strung about
I graced him like a loser should
I fought but much too late I understood

this throbbing in my chest,
it engulfs me.
the delirious assumption of neglect,
that putrid feeling of self pity,
how disgusting.
bone grinds bone in my mouth,
my jaw aches with hatred
until my vision blurs over
with hope of ignorance.
a pathetic waste of life.
i breathe deep but,
it doesnt satiate my thirst,
for that fresh breath of promise.
there is only one end,
to that crippling pain that
crackles through my brain,
like spiderwebs of battered glass.
the sharp horrid sensation
of imploding from the depths of my entrails.
another breath wasted.
a pulsation so strong,
my fingers twitch with the
onrushing river of blood that courses
through me like toxic waste.

oh,
to live again.

the warm salty fluid of loneliness,
rests on my lip before flavoring
my tongue with disdain.
it burns.
what was my purpose?
what do you all want from me?
cheeks flush pink with oncoming denial.
i dont care! i dont care!
my ribcage convulses.
dont think.
...stop it!
a warm rotten gasp escapes
my chafed lips.
i swallow hard.
the need to forget.
i tease my trembling wrist,
with the cold steel of promise.
it's clever charisma creates
a tingling sensation of power
that jolts my nerves.
alarmed hairs stand on edge.
my heart skips a beat with excitement.

oh,
to live again.

i drag the point down my inner arm,
snagging skin as the tip skitters about.
please. forgive me.
i slice down without hesitation.
my eyes swell with shimmers of relief.
blood spills over.
a warm crimson rush of despair
dribbles onto my lap.
my thighs are speckled with the
greatest high of relief.
i laugh at the
bubbling layer of fat that
wiggles from its crater,
like maggots gluttonously feeding
from a rotted carcass left
to shrivel in the heat.
my bottom lip splits with a smile.

oh,
to live again.

a slowing heartbeat.
my shoulders relax.
i inhale sharply.
it singes my lungs with a
wildfire of threat,
but i care not.
awww sweet dopamine.
the sanguine pool clots
around my feet.
i clench my toes in the mess
with childlike hysteria,
sand at the beach,
such polluted thoughts.
feeling faint,
a mind now at complete peace.
my head takes a bow between my knees.
the tips of my hair tickle the last
bit of trouble i've created for you.
the room fogs over.
such a soothing shade of white.
im weightless and floating,
angelic.
i close my weary eyelids.
time no longer to be wasted.
i meant no harm.
the end is inevitable.
useless body of baggage.
woe is me.
exhale.

oh,

to live again.

You look at me
with those eyes
imploring
your soul
seeking
answers that experience can only answer.

Your hands search me
your hair hangs low, curling
and inviting. These times are
simple.
I love them, sinking
gluttonously too deep
to a place we both enjoy.

But then...

we come again
to your greedy eyes
probing deep within my
tender soul
wanting answers
to questions
no girl my age should know.

in the great history of commerce
there must have
at one point been a truck
load of milk mechanically suckled
by machines in chugging glugs
off bloated udders

and at the same point tons
of honey harvested industrially
from swarming workers
stored in vats
stacked at the back of some
huge juggernaut

pointing at each other at
the point of
gluttonously sputter speeding
on toward heft-hauling
highway impact -
and both drivers snapped

that freeze frame money shot -
them shattering
through to promised lands
of milk and honey

Like rain I fall down.
Drop after wet drop.
Yet within rhythm
I maintain
the pace of life.
Never skipping a beat.
Always on time.
I do as I am told by the dictator
Oh, obedient slave
feasting on fear and complex
gluttonously  
Don’t provoke a storm.
Let the drops in
time beat,
creating
what only I can.

I do not write to enlighten others or to broadcast my own perspectives. I write neither to remember nor to be remembered. Writing is not my ambition; it is not my escape; it is not my hobby. It is my addiction.  I write to stave the shakes and pains that plague me when I do not. Writing indulges the demon fighting inside me, that creature clawing eternally at the bars of my soul. Though I try obediently to contain its groanings, to sit quietly in the verbal single dimension of society, the need cannot be ignored indefinitely. Eventually I must concede, must let it claw and tear gluttonously until what was once blank sheet now bleeds my deepest and most lucid revelations. I know that when this purging is over I will be left hollow, pensive and raw, but once I have begun I can only continue viciously, can only drink the carnage that I pen and savor it on my tongue, gurgling and laughing. Each work I create strengthens the obsession and claims another share of my existence, so that I live shadow-like between writings, playing a half-hearted charade. Like every addict, I secretly pine for the day when the game will reach its peak – when finally my demon will emerge triumphantly, sword in hand, and leave my dry and useless body lying in a gummy puddle of deep red inspiration.

Tonight, like every other
I invite you to fulfill this space in
Me, void unseen, creeping back
Every time I am distracted.

Feel free to tell me of your fears and joys
Or how you're tired of the lean young boys
Raving gluttonously over you, and I listen.

Simply, silently, like my soul
Like a bowl under a waterfall
Ever being filled by flowing life
Except never really being full at all
Please, dreams, bring hope and soothe my strife.
In the sweet and solemn sounds of silence
Now the only thing that lets me drift away,
Gut feeling that tomorrow's gonna change.

1
A dark September of the rising sun, lay it
Think on Nature’s belly, gaze to wide, and wide forget
All about the open, a shutter and a swelling,
As frost upon a filament, snapped and waving round
This cord could pluck amorous sound
Now it’s fat and dead vibration
Swallowed by Nature, her acoustics.
#2
He said I dreamt we made love on moss
Quickly his nature for it longs
Before and thence thereafter
Battered his own skull, the truncheon of those blast desires
All of their dreams, disillusioned by a rotting cream
Before he ate so gluttonously
And loath to think so freely.
#3
In the throes of such blanket miseries
He was a mountain climbing itself
Taillights seeking headlights
Middle of the line, seeking the end
Though this absolution of Dark September
Wretched and cold, has months as he miles
Towards the snow of Darkest November.

Innocence becomes more innocent once it is ruined
Once the fragile and immaculate has broken into a million pieces, is it truly recognized
As a limbo that was as beautiful as it was terrifying
Something so perfect it seemed as though all things were destined to break before it
A moment when the ground of the earth becomes the villain
Why would you do this to me? You ask
As the density of gaea stares back at you, poignant and all knowing

And when you have finally found solace in the bottom
When it seems all but impossible that you should fall further
The curse of time seems to swallow you whole
Bringing your shattered form to a hollow peace
Still; complacent in your new found pain
Surrounded by a void that lacks compassion
There are no victims here

Immediately the denial of truth
Denial of the fact that feeling overtakes reason
Replacing the knowledge that nature had put in you
About how very small and temporary everything is
Your broken biology still wrecked across identifiable anguish
And yet, you yearn for everything that hurts
Within the abyss, filled with both ending and infinite beginning
Only one constant remains; nothing


I want everything, here and now
I want everything so that I may never be fed this hurt again
Gluttonously we consume any and all remaining sensation
So that our new form, our new self, maybe be satiated
As it arrives, unwelcome, into this world
Eat, and fill
So that you may find normalcy in this new forsaken world

There is no me, there is no you
There is only the endless murderous maelstrom
Of life becoming unlife, and crawling its way back to the surface
Undermining and crusading all that has never felt pain
And as the innocent falls anew into the ever lasting caverns of hellscape
We are born anew

Destined to live and die a thousand deaths before our end truly comes
Predetermined to live by the inevitable
Tactfully designed to deceive, by any means, for as long as possible
Only then, having faced the grimness of truth
Are we completely human

Compassion is strongly tied to the drip of blood
As slowly both parties wound themselves to please the other
And as I lay sleepless
in the four sided realm where we mounted one another
You in my arms, smelling like the first scent of spring
Morose but full of life, weary but satisfied,
One by sight but apart upon closer inspection
Unsure of the ammunition used to slay tongue summoned monsters
Waiting to pounce the moment we split the earth and leave
Forced to bear the thirst til the day our soils grow forgetful
Concious that a grain is missing
But content enough that it not entertain its longing

Your hands bring warmth for as long as I could remember
Even now when the chasm grew more and more unreachable by light
As if it knew the moment we part today, is lost and can never be found again
Took matters into its own and gluttonously eats infinitely

To part without love does me justice
To have lost you to one who shares your soul
One who ignites the light in your eyes
and perhaps only in love can the absence of stolen objects
be filled as if they never left

You look at me
with those eyes
imploring
your soul
seeking
answers that experience can only answer.

Your hands search me
your hair hangs low, curling
and inviting. These times are
simple.
I love them, sinking
gluttonously too deep
to a place we both enjoy.

But then...

we come again
to your greedy eyes
probing deep within my
tender soul
wanting answers
to questions
no girl my age should know.

Cold it’s so cold out here outside
In the atmosphere of icy isolation
The exile an inevitable consequence
Of a life built on dishonesty
Each tiny falling snowflake
A reminder of past mistakes
I catch them as they drift downwards
If only the memories would melt as easily
Icicles poised to pierce the lie
If I should dare to utter it
In a brazen moment of self denial
Of the life of deceit I have been living
Body shaking world shaking
Shivering denizen of nightmare
Thin layers of reality no protection
Against the demons stalking my sanity
Along these deserted alleyways
Claws ready to shred my soul
Exposing the rotten core to the chill
Feasting gluttonously on the fear
Never to be sated
It will never be enough

Light there is light up ahead
Seeping out onto the street
Frosty cobblestones sparkling
Reflecting back the starry points
A rainbow concealing a *** of hope
That spills out into the mist
What stops me from picking up that hope
And tucking it into my coat pocket
Safely stowed for the future
Precious protection from my misery
Windows with opaque glass
Divided by dark leaded lines
Tall imposing red brick walls
Patterned with black beams
A wooden door studded with wrought iron
Invite me to share the comforting warmth within
But my frozen hand cannot turn the handle
An alien stranger vacuum sealed
Trapped in a foggy miasma of pain
Unable yet to grasp her freedom
Cut off from a happiness
She does not yet desire or deserve

The Mo-Dettes & their “Masochistic Opposite” did **** my silly, ill
spiel proposing a sickly need to squash the weenee of Pier Pasolini.
My gluttony was so gluttonously out-of-control that I was forced by
an ill, ravenously-diabetic hunger to sell my food to buy more food;
lewdly rude/crude food that was chewed by me for a pricky Pygmy.