Doors slam, harsh words
We blame each other
Three days, shut out
I can’t take this breakdown…
The riot in my head
Waiting. One moment
Its tongue is jaded serpentine,
The next I’m wrapped
Within its crushing embrace
Weak. My tired feet are
Dancing on nail beds
To desire my rightful place,
Daring. How dare me—
How dare he to profane
She to recollect cicatrices
With the tip of an accusing finger
To me. Heartless ribcage, will
You leave ligatures all over my
Silenced lips once again?
Of course, that is what you
Do…that is what you will…
Twain capricorn souls and volunteering
Severed hands…is the fragrance of
The future solely mine; no, yours—
To dominate selfishly?
No. No? No!
Need I even repent in my
Inquiries, regretting it all too late?
Struggling, struggling. Weak
As of late. Acrid flesh peels off
To reveal viscid fruit within a
Decaying flower, sweet like the lying
Promises of the riot in my head,
Crying, crying. Waiting.
And it’s all, and it’s all
And it’s all in the back of my mind
All I want, all I want
All I want is to turn back time
Dare me darlin’, I don’t want to let go
And what we need is a little damage control…