Tag Archives: flesh

Sweetest Intimacy

Would you let me

Place my tender hands

On your warm chest

So I could cut you open

With a blunt scalpel

And let my fingers flow

Against your insides

That slippery sensation

Of panicking blood

Against this living flesh

Crushing the oxygen

Tracing lines around your

Lungs like star signs

Of a sky trapped behind

An ivory cage—spare

Me a rib or a vein or two

As my hands shall be

Exploring you way further

Find organs to suture

Or prod you into laughter

Are you ticklish here?

On your stomach, in your

Punctured diaphragm

No need to ask if you have

Got the guts, but don’t

Be heartless, I’ll miss your

Larynx for that chuckle

All before I stain your neck

With the red of your

Slowing aorta, and set you

Free with a final gasp

And just one gentle little snap.

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Andromeda

Can anyone reveal the bloodstains

Hiding underneath my torn lips…

Would anyone kiss it all away?

.

My thoughts are arrested at gunpoint

As if they were guilty of something—

.

But the crimes hanging my crown

Heavy on one side are nothing new

I’ve already paid for them time and time again

But why am I still being punished?

.

I can’t escape the incarceration from

What everyone else calls their brain

Try as I may to scrape off the slivers of light,

A jailbreak only makes for broken bones

And a rather crueler atonement…

.

I’m crossing thin lines inside my head

And all over my skin, precarious and fatal

Until humility becomes my illness

.

And manipulation my only chapel of truth

.

For I am no longer human; rather

I am simply a galaxy of constellated scars

.

But not a single one coruscates any longer

And my flesh becomes just another dead star

Extinguished quietly in the infinite darkness.

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bricked-up

this house

is a horde of

gnashing

pack rats all

fucking eating

me alive

and i wish

that they would

choke on my

flesh after i

lace it with

cyanide.

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midday

the heat is heavy

and cumbersome

and it presses down

every inch of my

slow-roasted flesh

down to my chest

into my choked lungs

now, i would inhale

but that would mean

that i’m voluntarily

letting the heat in

so i think i’m fine

holding my breath

for now, and waiting

until summer goes away.

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Mister Doctor Man, How Much For An Autopsy?

I’m Mr. Doctor Man who questions his hands
Lost his mind, but clinically fine
But he found a way to cope, needle in his throat
Falling down, but the world is spinning round
And round, he knows…

~*~

Your arcane consonance is another memory in my eyes

Candelabras, needles, and shale skin is what’s left of me

Sabotaging the magnitude, time is but another simple lie

I’ll be the sick boy soldier patching up your indigo eternity

.

But don’t count me out like the silver glitter in your dress

I may be a fair firmament forecast, but you’re a bad omen

Perhaps your vignettes are perverse, and I’m lost in senses

Remnants of irrational contusions, in a masquerade pretend

.

My artful catastrophe is another remembrance in colder eyes

Chandeliers, syringes, and shallow flesh was what’s left of you

Serrated mutinous, time is but another complicated way to die

You’ll be the sad girl doctor breaking down my lavender infinity.

~*~

Honestly, it’s running through my veins
You see? I don’t need their surgeries
I just wanna breathe; they’re coming after me…

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s.i.n.e.w.s.

a sinew away

from hacking flagellate

into sinews of little flesh

a stained promenade

.

a sinew away

from biting down the hurt

and sinews of little agony

for all its pained worth.

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Carthago Delenda Est

“Save yourself, don’t ever look back…”

~*~

the mishaps they prophesised

is just another lost epoch for me

over my head, the neon glow

flickers with creed of premonition

.

madness, restored under faith

under penance and keeping such

congeniality running circles in a

genuflected vacation for hedonism

.

the sirens rehearsed another tale

unsatisfied with the heralded audition

drowning the ingenuity in between

applauses of deranged diaspora

.

disparaging exhilaration eliminating

the oxytocin behind my constantly evolving

flesh again, as the vicarious deception

makes me bow my head and continue the end.

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Consumed

Yeah, this is what I do, take another bite
Big enough to chew
She said, “Careful, or you’ll lose it”
But girl, I’m only human
And I know there’s a blade where your heart is
And you know how to use it…


Entrée # 1: Hors d’œuvre

There’s blood in my fingers from where you broke them clean

Take another bite of my quivering torso, gut the blade in my spleen

I’ll be alright, my bloodshot eyes roll back at your finer tastes

If you’re planning to murder me, dear, just don’t let me go to waste


Entrée #2: Apéritif

I couldn’t lose it, I wouldn’t lose it, this time, this time I swear

They all look so goddamn tantialising to me, they’re all so unaware

My cracked lips are watering at the thought of flesh rather aged

I’m five seconds away from counting down and going into a rampage


Fine Dining: Plat Principal

The rioting voices in my head screamed “Run, why don’t you?!”

But I’m afraid I’m enjoying my own homicide scene far too much to stop

Turn around, let me see the perpetrator, let me take you through

It’s not fair, with every gland and chemical, they ruptured in another trap


Save Some Room: Assiette à Dessert

What…what the fuck happened? All I see is a decaying cadaver still smiling

And sweet postmortem laughter digging at the back of my head, latching to me

I searched for a drag, lost restraint again, and satisfied myself with my  f e e d

I said that I’ll stop killing for greed, but I never said I’ll stop for what I  n e e d.


And you can take my flesh if you want, girl
But, baby, don’t abuse it
These voices in my head screaming, “Run, now”
I’m praying that they’re human…

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january evenings

keep me warm

for my rattly bones

and my shivering flesh

and the very edges

of my frosted fingertips

are rather arctic cold…

so share your tepid breaths

circulating faintly like

your lukewarm blood

and wrap your tiny fingers

in mine, as i ensconce

you around a quiet

embrace, keeping the

both of us warm and cosy

comfortably nestled together

under blankets and pillows

as we rest in the midst of the

brewing tantrum storm outside,

frigid breeze only daring us

to thaw tighter in each other’s

soft, assuring, ember grasp.

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at the edge of my seat (but i can’t fall off)

Curtains close, take a bow
I think we fooled all of them now
Who you are, what you say
What you do each and every single day
I’ve made my bed, so I’ll lie in it
I’ve dug my grave, so God help me die in it…

~*~

i don’t feel right at all

it’s as if i have a hangnail

at the sides of my heart

and i want to excavate

my chest and pull it out

even if that would make it

worse and bleed me out

but i just fucking can’t

.

it’s like a thousand eyes

digging holes in my flesh

dictating what i should feel

soft glances then angry glares

sweet skies then dark rains

never constant, always blinking

fluctuating under oscillating

up and down and up and down

.

it’s like a quicksilver potion

by a bastardous mad scientist

injected within my system

mercurial and temperamental

turning me in a million shades

of colours unknown to the mind

until i’m unconscious, oblivious

to my own grotesque sentience

.

no, i don’t feel right at all

and it’s like i want to detonate

from all the myriad conflictions

and the infinite contradictions

shattering, breaking, annihilating

i just want to be alright for once

i just want to feel nothing at all

but i can’t…no, i fucking can’t.

~*~

Just like the living dead, I’ve got a taste for something
And I don’t want it, I just need it
And I can’t believe that it’s getting harder just to feel alive
It’s getting harder just to feel alive…

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