You can stroke at my skin
Blow me kisses
Touch my hands
The legs I have scratched at leaving scares I'll never let you see
You could mean it all
You could love me.
You could give me everything I'd even need
Things like food or water
A life
From the blood flowing through my body
To the mind games
Things I need and things I don't
I could love you
I could hold your hand
I could laugh at all your stupid jokes
I could give you everything I have
Thats what I'll do for you
But that won't stop me from killing you
Watching the blood slowly drain you
Watching the worry coat your once beautiful features
I could do everything from the first stab into your gut to the deposing of your body
Then I'd consider the risk you took taking my hand and not hers
But of course you did take her hand
You held them carefully
You let her into the light we once shared
i insist on suffocating slowly
still
i refuse to die
imposing my will to weakness
avoiding applying the “why”
implications are closing in, opressive
my mind is open, fluid
suggestive
interposing meaning and form with
the spoken and written letter
the light source filtered through all this
wreckage
the squeaking moving in, opressive
regressive, the way my vantage remains
a disjointed unit-whole
you persist, and i suffocate quickly
you ask so nicely for me to die
deposing my God damned will to power
why do i seem to avoid the “apply”?
THE SYMBOL ON MY HAND IS BURNING
into the flesh, and back out from inside
illuminates Prison, a chasm, a prism
dividing a spectrum of impossible light
we wholly refract the soma, the psyche
The Panic transforms into beauty inane
compulsion, obsession, redemption, addiction
we know we’re alive
we perpetuate pain
Lingering bits of joy
Outlasting grey episodes of sadness
Always prevailing in fading shadows
Laughter's light always shinning
Hope sustaining faith
Love deposing evil
Age the friend of reason
It is but to assume the role
The journey is the play
Encores await
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