Corpse Conscious

Visceral reality

Blood, muscle, and flesh,

All elements of the body

So palpably aware.

A carnal revelation

In litanies of pain

Written by dissection

On cerebellum walls.

So pliable and weak,

So simple to restrain,

So sensitive to touch,

Manipulatable and soft.

Do bones of the starved

Congeal into demons

To slake their thirst

On our living blood?

Do hordes of average men

Yearn for satisfaction

In the sight and feel

Of our mangled forms?

Should I desire much

To be just a ghost,

An incorporeal dust

Just floating alone?

And how would that soothe

The screaming I hear

From a younger sibling

Whose cat ran away?

Thaw Me

Steam over snow

Melting away my dust

Vapor over crystal

I’m desperate to become,

Killing everyone

Fucking away the pain

Just won’t cut it

And I can’t even run,

Smile and a kiss

Without a worry for once

I’m still waiting

I’m still too numb,

Blood over snow

Lounging in my wreckage

Anger over fear

And the damage was done.

Not like this,

Not frozen in my hate,

Please, just a kiss,

I’ve waited for too long,

Please,

I’m so sorry,

I’m ready to move on.

 

Pretty Little Flowers

You’re so vibrant

Or rather, that’s what I recall.

It feels vibrant to remember you,

At least.

It was cold

And we were both silent,

Shivering in worlds apart

It seemed.

Somehow, you bloomed

In January’s deadly quiet,

Drearily blanketed as you were,

I perceived.

Thoroughly naked,

Your boldness of spirit

Inspired many, though others thought

you diseased.

I must confess,

The winter left me frightened,

My calloused petals nearly scared

To breathe.

By spring

I hadn’t so much as sprouted,

Even as you were shimmering

In the eve.

You were vibrant.

Yes, I’m sure now you were.

Your vibrancy must have marked you

To those fiends.

I’d noted them,

The howling sons of tyrants

Braying their tempers vehemently

To their weeds.

Utter lust

To the point of carnal violence

Towards such saturated colors

As we.

I lay dormant,

But you swayed on defiant

To be ravaged so voraciously

By those things.

I heard it all.

I shuddered, but I was silent.

Now your swaying has all but stifled

With the breeze.

It’s winter again.

I’m cold and also still quite frightened,

But for our sakes, I promise I’ll finally bloom

Vibrantly in Spring.

 

Fear Of The Darker Half

The savage half that lurks

Within the sensitive little child.

The rabid ravenous wolf

That hungers for revenge.

The blinding red rage,

Demanding fresh sacrifice.

The violent satisfaction

Of devouring any threat.

Any perceived aggression

Like a beckoning full-moon,

Distorting the human form

Into malevolent mutation.

A child’s broken heart

Like the inner bleeding soul,

Nailed in and buried

Under cruelty’s creation.

The ferocity of retribution,

Destroying enemies and friends.

Offenders of the self,

Worthy offerings for the fiend.

Survival of the fittest

Gratifying primal urges,

The fear of being touched

And suffering more pain.