Birth

The drapes never fit this room.
The drapes never fit your womb.
And she stole the cradle
and with it the world.
Prostitues knew before she had a clue
about the infant growing swollen like
her belly.
and if time played it's cards
you'd know life beginning was not so far
away from the reasons she should have said no
In the back of a car
drunk and smitten
man caressing her bare sides
offering her a ride
into an exsistance she could never deny
now that this baby was inside
of her
becoming
real.

Work brings Freedom

She was kidnapped by her doppelganger.
Strangled behind the loveseat in the home of a paramour,
Disguised as a stiff suit with blackjack eyes.
Ah, yes, those dancing orbs she called eyelids.
Blinking misfortune, something like ten million to one.
You'd think her burning hair would wear her head like the grande finale'
But no. No. No.
She just laid there.. fear escaping her lips like whimpers of help.
The enemies gates slamming shut, with her inside.
She is unreachable.
Her body strung up like a Auschwitz ballerina.
The fields cause seizures within her mind.
Hands bleeding as they rub off on the pole


"Arbeit macht frei."

Pieds Parlants

Curled toes to the sky, praying for saliva.
Bathed by the twisted idea of the hair on the back of your neck standing up.
My goodness..
What have I done?



No one answered.

The end.

Her hair fell down her face like the end of yesterday's symphony.
Magically tied together by the qualms twirling in their stomach,
She begged for tongues to wither in her mouth as she exhaled.
No one would understand the meaning of her truth until she died.
And as the Pharaohs of her past came echoing out of her throat.
She washed them back down with bourbon and prescription medication.
Foaming at the mouth, she smiled in the mirror.
Laying her head on her pillow, eyes memorizing the ceiling.
Waltzing with images of marrow and wonder if she will make it.
Hoping she won't.

But has she really?

Sweet Dreams

My eyes scanned your legs like scarabs in the womb.
Defying what is time, and sending your head back.
Chin pointed to the sky, tongue lapping the nape of your neck.
Eager sighs of ecstacy, born and awake like a screaming child.
Hands drifting up, and back down, slow rythm.
Your bottom lip begging for more as I twirled my finger around..
What we called "yours", as mine soaked the sheets.
One hand wandering behind your back, manuvering the holster of your breasts
My eyes meet yours one last time..
And the gun I held to the back of your head went off.
Death came quivering in, as shock drained from your face.
Your blood decorating my thighs like an envelope of red silk.
and I knew what I had done.


Goodnight my lover.

Acquaintances

Have you ever took a look back at yourself throughout the years?
I grew up in a computer age, and my prior selves seem to still linger on the Internet.
Through google I was able to find pictures of myself, myself naked, my writing, my old user names, and my old tastes and likes... How bizarre.
Well nice to meet you.
I'm what you have become.

Nothing is sacred. Not even time.
Not anymore.


[ What am I without the bruises? ]

Scapegoat

It slipped between the cracks
Like raw sand and hands mended together by thoughts we never kept.
Secretly disposed of by the twilight of night
and if you looked inside the hole, you'd notice the girl staring back.

Eyes glistening something pretty,
Like tiny moons casting over the dark sky, blue.
And if you knew her so well, how did she fall?
How did it get past you all?
As she drown in the floorboards of a house you never meant to own.

In a basement where lies lay their eggs to hatch
and draw back
before she notices you're gone
Because she will.
She will.