Eyes craved and taken from my sockets.
Nose chopped up into miniscule pieces found on the ground, the
lips left chapped and neglected on a summer's boiling afternoon.
This is the corpse that wears no frown.
It's seen better days of course, laid in softer, more promising
arms than these.
I haven't moved.
I won't take a single breath without the reassurance of your
As the weather continues in a sped up montage in nature's
I only turn around to find you standing next to me.
We clasp hands, hoping that this time will be more potent to the
world, and all that wants to shred us apart.
Brief hand holding unfortunately does not sustain all that's come
I've tattered up the only remaining pulse left that pumps out the
thin liquids throughout your veins, the only persuasion to show
that you could be human again.
I took that, greedily and mindlessly.
Now that my senses are back, now that I know what I want, you are
only a zombie like thing, going through the motions, using the
pretty words you've learned from previous encounters with women.
I can't blame you, really I can't.
You're soulless, powerless, and manipulative only when I allow
Somehow, as demented as it may seem, I can't help wanting your
poisonous ways covered, under, near all around me.
When I feel your coldness, my body shakes, the only vibrancy it
can concoct these days.
The bells are not ringing for me, nor are the flowers blooming
their colorful hues, privately and exclusively for my own seeing.
So why would I think I'd have you all to myself?
What would make such a public offering fold into itself.
You aren't real, anything that is sculpted professionally from
that exquisite mouth is all false.
You can't love me, though I want that more than anything.
Maybe, that's what holds this dangerous appeal towards the
thought of receiving your devotion.
It's easy to commit when something like that shall never come.
Atlas, I sit here, weeping over my own self prone sorrows.
All the mistreated actions that bestow themselves upon me, have
all been asked for.
I wanted this, curiosity did in fact kill the cat.
I'm the pussy that keeps whining for me.
And after I receive it?
What then, what now?
I sit and loll, waiting for an opportunity to present itself once