Wavelengths and frequencies waver in a capricious cadence
The heart thrashes wildly against the rib cage’s stoic restraint
Ribbons of perspiration gush over milky, glowing white limbs
The iris takes a hard won vacation as the pupils become stricken with dilation
The tongue drowns in savage swells of conditioned salivation
Each hair stands on tip toe to salute your lack of discretion
What a ruse it was to think that you would never again use
The mind-dulling chemicals that tore apart your humanity
Stripped back the bolts connecting your brain to the sober reality
Of life marked by two levels of relative sanity
Volatility prompts epic calamity or gross generosity
Catapulted to a life way past any semblance of normalcy
Throwing away one’s dearest aspirations to mend someone else’s tragic life
The feels are too much and the cravings are boiling me into a rage
A scapegoat, twisted and motivated by demons may silence the nagging lambs;
The shee-ople who know nothing won’t align in chronological order;
They won’t assuage you of your terrors; They will ignore all of your bargains;
They will feast on your weakest bones. They will prey on your futuristic clones.
Guilted by Catholic knees that betray one’s very own mortality, humanity, egocentricity.
Grown to never hate, but rather to sympathize and empathize and minimize.
Actions fail to exemplify the simplicity of the saying.
Connecting the hammer to my cranium, cracking it clean like a coconut.
Blood gushes, but it turns me on. I swoon. I faint. I fall in love.
Dazzling explosions burst from inside eyelids. Pain feels. I feel. I live. I’m alive!
Manically laughing, attracting every curious gaze.
I take the blade and I slice with the precision and force of an accomplished wood whittler.
The pain is a waterfall. It cleanses and invigorates my gaunt skeleton.
Wanna die, darling? You love being alive, evidenced by your enamor with the rush.
You love the slices, the trickle of the clotting attempt. Not visible. Secret. Reasonable.
The blood deluge induced from the shock of the pain. Fuck me with a porcupine.
Please, just ruin me for good. From the rubble rises Protection.
From unwarranted self loathing and shameshameshame.
You’re worthless as a broken penny, another overpriced overrated whore.
But he almost had ya fooled.
Confidence dissolves again with the disparaging response
To your shameless flawless babbling about detailed jargon-laced factoid-laden tangents
Word vomit and honesty misconstrued as pomp and circumstance and pride
Highlighting our contrasts instead of our blended talents
Blowing down my brick facade with your forceful hurricane of indifference
I’m seething with emotions and reckoning with my failure
I have no knowledge or wisdom you see as compelling
Receptive as cement block walls; Snap my neck, baby, don’t be shy.
Crack all of my ribs. One by one, a xylophone of xanthic flesh-covered beautiful bones
You don’t want to be a success; Just wanna make a living in varied stages of undress
Spread them pins, girl, grab your chest. Seduce them with your promiscuity.
Let them bore into you, furthering your deterioration from the outside in.
You want to light me ablaze alive?
I’ll burn slowly, my eyes set on yours so that you can see my soul engulfed in blackness;
The glass panes of the windows are shattered now; shards sprinkled in ebony soot and ash
Your deranged expression and snickering sneering smacking lips
They’re bleeding, you’re so perplexed–who slaughtered whom tonight?
The extinction of the leader of sedition is reason for me to…Celebrate this sweet respite
With the intravenous shot of liquid heaven–-fly to Panama, it always sounded so lush.
Dive into the clouds and float just for a fraction of a moment. Sweetly
Suspended above the churning grave site that will welcome me with burgeoning waves
And Karma is the vengeance doled out by the Creator alone.
Free will is a hell of a drug, my love. Suck it up, buttercup.
You strived to be savage and succeeded in your sabotage.
Watch my love from above as he shoves himself inside of your walls
As I brace my heart for the hurt, it dawns–I no longer have sensation from emotion
I am a soul without a body–how I always craved to be in my earthly vessel
That body could not be loved in the flesh, the wounds were always too fresh
Please understand–it was all on me, so damned proud and way too honest
I rambled interminably when I was blatantly being ignored; I was such a bore
No longer assuming the role of the wretched weeds which only ever served
To put a chokehold around the necks of the budding begonias and petunias
Finally, I have quenched a quarter of a century suicide pact with myself
I love the smell of organ failure
The taste of my own incinerated lips on my flaming tongue
Chin high, spine poised, a faceless grin of stark white teeth against a blackened skull
Toss my tresses over my withered shoulders
Now I’m sauntering across the barrier between the realms
In nothing but my hollow bones as the phonograph eerily drones my own personal dirge
Both in life and death, I am a queen and you’re a peasant
But you rattled me with news of your sudden and steadfast dissent
Combat was always your sharpest skill. Conquered, but never vanquished.
Liberated at last, my agenda in death has but one singular task:
I will haunt you, like the poltergeist I can now officially say I am
I will drown you in a basin of my blood and make damn certain that
The last thing you will ever see is anything but crystal clear.
You will pine for me upon setting sight on the tantalizing colors
Comprising the prism of my reflection in the distorted daylight;
The damaging, searing ultraviolet rays in which you shall forever be left to bask.
(me, myself, & I–picture and poem/prose/piece)