Tag Archives: artwork

blood red, snow white

Wake up in a dream, frozen fear
All your hands on me
I can’t scream, I can’t scream, I can’t escape
The twisted way you think of me
I feel you in my dreams, and I don’t sleep…

~*~

vivid red, the camellias were

in full bloom today,

lush petals on a pillowed heart

.

i was finding my way

to return from tepid tides

breaking away from venus light.

.

are you hiding your needles?

From which i used to attract the

sovereign flies with, fettered

.

among suspicious hostile twitches

and pulled-off moth wings

decaying with secrets in the kitchen cabinet

.

i do not deserve absolution.

I deserve punishment and jealousy

patched upon each humilified aphorism

.

i am no longer concerned if i have

already bled out, or breathed in,

or both. or perhaps none.

.

but i am fairly certain of the

fingernail scars, tracing louvre patterns and

loveless artwork all over my arms

.

restrained; concealed amid furious

ensconcement and violent bruises

almost as pure and as fresh as

.

vivid red, the camellias were

in full bloom yesterday,

lush petals covering a beaten heart.

~*~

I can’t save your life, though nothing
I bleed for is more tormenting
I’m losing my mind and you just stand there
And stare as my world divides
You belong to me, my snow white queen
There’s nowhere to run, so let’s just get it over
Soon I know you’ll see you’re just like me
Don’t scream anymore my love, ’cause all I want is you…

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The Madman’s Magnum Opus

Insane is all I know right now, and my head feels demented

My nails fall out, my gums decay, before I get sedated

I choke on my teeth and swallow a few, shit, it feels hard

As they wring the spit from my eyes and again I’m a discard

So numb that I couldn’t feel the knife on my spine anymore

And I couldn’t count the tally marks screaming on the wall

Keeping track of the infinite days when the demon lets me be

And inches its fangs closer to put me out of my stagnant misery

.

Because the blood tastes more delectable when it’s not my own

As the whores that I corrupted bring my wasted body home

They don’t flinch at the maggots that they suck from my mouth

But they do protest before the chloroform hits their breathing south

No no, it’s not torture, I promise I won’t ever hurt you, my dear

I just wish to lick away all your mingling doubts and puerile fear

But don’t piss yourself, don’t soil your skin, or I’ll be very mad indeed

Behave yourself and stay sweet as hell, or you’ll die before you heed

.

But they caught me revering over one of my masterpiece creations one day

Yelling loud profanities to such beauties, that’s not a very nice thing to say

They dislocated my shoulder just trying to put my artistic hands in cuffs

And took away my beloved artworks, goddamn these useless criticising cops

So that’s how I ended up in here, living and sleeping in a filthy jail cell

With a colossal man who uses me to play every night as if I couldn’t even tell

The food is bland, the nurses laugh, the doctors give me exclusive diseases

The medicine is cheap and expired, putting my mind under heavy poisoned dazes

.

But it’s alright, because the girls I love visit me when no one else is looking

Their breaths may be putrid, their bones may protrude, but I won’t be complaining

And they’re building a rope out of their intestines to help with my grand escape

Don’t worry, I’ll be back to make you feel loved again, so just you patiently wait

They may inject cholera and botulism in me, and force me to see an underpaid shrink

But I won’t be deluded at all, no, as clear as a dark day I can still properly think

I’ll lace my pustule-dotted hands with anthrax and touch them until they’re all dead

Writhing on the floor as I step on their bodies, no one can help these bastards now

.

But for now, insane is all I can ever know, and all this pain feels rather demented

My cheeks slough off, my ears leak brain fluid, yet I feel so divinely elevated

I suffocate on plastic pills and jolt again from the electroshock, shit, it’s such a buzz

As they wring the tears from my broken neck and again I black out with a slurred cuss

So insensible I couldn’t feel the rusted scalpel slicing out my frontal lobe anymore

But I wouldn’t have to count the scratched tally marks shrieking at me on the stone wall

Because when the demon rends another piece from my heart and transfers immortality

Vengeance will be served and heads will roll; this world is damned, so I’ll add a little more beauty.

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Filed under Poetry, Valentines Poetry

Mending the Moon

i shall mend the moon for you

and i hope you’ll still accept it

even though there are stitches

intertwining through its craters

and i’ll embroider sparkling stars

on the dark side of the lunar face

perhaps you’ll hang it on the doorway

next to the artwork sun you handpainted.

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metal & skin (vii.)

the worst part

isn’t the fact that

i shower myself

in paintings of

incarnadine affinity

it’s the fact that

my fucked-up mind

wants to display

the grotesque artwork

so damn proudly.

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Filed under Poetry