with a razor I crop and cut away
all signifiers of my birth name
so i can finally let my hips sway
prickly pits and nasty days
of dreading dance, searing shame
with a razor; I crop and cut away
what urges you to hiss at me?
how I dare defy nature so seductively?
i have. to let my hips sway
es beware of my witty ways
the ones that cross me will know my pain
with a razor; I cut and cut away
those who march to a different drummer though
baby! call me by my chosen name
so i can finally; let my hips sway!
never have I felt so clean and gay
each hair, each foe and all that shame
with a razor I cut and cut away
so i can finally let my hips sway.
Razorblade
Shot a rebel through the heart.
Cancer kills but life is art.
You tried to put a stop to all that we are,
But we are too hot to handle; you can’t grab hold of a star.
Fire your guns; I’m invincible.
Speak your words; I’ve heard them all before.
Condemn a man for condemning your war.
You will never stop what we are.
Your system of control and degrade is beginning to fade.
Push my buttons, I’m a microwave,
Blowing through your wall like a hand grenade.
A tongue so sharp, I’m a razorblade;
Cutting your lies apart…your truth cannot be saved.
(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Once upon a sadness,
The darkness came to play
And the children of the blood
Danced the razorblade ballet
An orchestra of the lost
Played songs on the night
While the winds of misery
Carried the pale tunes through
Lonely skies
And upon vunerable ears this
Lullabye of hurt did fall
As steel and flesh unite
Ancient practice
Spill the drops
Purge the blackness
Scars are mine, pain divine
When lights balance holds not the sway
Only dancers know the price
My razorblade ballet.
Falling,
In a down ward flare,
Falling,
Spiraling to the cold hard ground,
Falling,
As all animals and creatures are sedate,
Falling,
A cold dark glare,
Falling,
Is all I see as I hit the ground with a big loud pound,
Falling,
To the edge of a blade,
Falling,
To a razor blade death.
i feel like i'm dying & never end up dead.
someday, i will write to you in the colors of myself;
the flaking rust of dried blood,
the purple of deep bruises & passion,
one from the other.
& somewhere near the center,
the shocking blue of the brightest flame
& the truest green,
to prove that even pain is a part of growth.
i'll paint you the world through my eyes
& from the tip of my pen.
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