Tag Archives: hands

blood on my hands

Watched you bite into the bottle
Watched me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed as you just hung there…

~*~

attacking

the white walls

’til my shivery

senseless knuckles

blossom into

myriad riots of

heliotrope and scarlet,

painting my fist

with burgundy blots

and cacophonic

screams of potent

mercilessness

splattering the

wall with brutality

and upset red

and an anger that’s

feeding on the migraine

at the back of my

artery-bursting temple

harsh primal senses

overtaking all of

my rationality

the adrenaline nearly

stopping my heart,

nothing but blind fury

exhausted from all sides

of this violence

i can see your face

on the goddamn wall

i don’t want to stop trying

to knock some sense

into your hallucination

of your childish disillusion

for every time

skin kisses asphalt

and soft collides with solid

it’s a tally of just how

fucking stupid you are.

i’ll keep on punching

and seething and pounding

and tearing flesh,

hoping that soon enough

one of us will just stop

trying to be a masochistic

fucker and cease such

useless punishment

and i only pray

that it will happen

all before the lusting metal

reaches your strung vein

and snaps it in half

turning the blood on my

hands into more than

just a literal connotation;

or before the grinding concrete

reaches my fragile bones

and breaks it apart

turning the damage into

more than just

a wall.

~*~

I lost my head
You couldn’t come
This lust to my brain
Almost feels like a gun…

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Invisible Hands

When all you’ve got is these four walls
It’s not that hard to feel so small
Or even exist at all…

~*~

Senses desensitised, screaming silently, chained to my own body

Blindfolds and folded gags and covered hands stifling me

There’s a trap in my soul, shadows eclipse my heart

Within the midnight of my mind lies a sky, starless and dark

.

For the words I can’t speak drips like cyanide off my mouth

And it tastes more bitter and deadlier than poison when I’m unable to shout

Lips stained scarlet, eyes tear-stained, as suffering festers in doses of pain

Manacles fettered to my sanity, I can’t set free, here I’ll remain

.

The unsaid ferments in my tongue, and drowns the abyss and pierces the glass under my skin

Every nerve, every vein, every shiver, every twitch, every beat of my pulse is rebelling

For the taciturn glance that tells of a million rampaging emotions, I can only hope you understand

That I’m not at fault for this cruel affliction, I’m simply being held back by invisible hands.

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washing the blood off

i’m aware

my hands

are tainted

with blood,

but i’m afraid

that yours is

not on mine.

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A Box of Sharp Things

Please do not

Notice the fresh

Scars on my skin

It’s nothing—

My clumsy hands

Just slipped on a

Box of sharp things

Yet again…

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★ nearly frozen ☆

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

sober on whiskey

and red faced as

the frigid winds

tossed her auburn

locks like sparrows

the party was over

she’d tossed her

garter to the crowds

and they went wild

and hit it off like

eros’s pink arrows

but warm hands

failed to find their

way into her soul

and icy blue eyes

and she walked alone

she was a snowman

with how cold she felt

inside and outside

no one to thaw her

and she walked on home.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

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Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations