feast

Let spill the sizzling hilt of sword

that dams your flooding blood with steel

the lapping blade, its greedy stains

which bring the coping rain.

 

My vision blurs, I sink and swirl

and every cell within.

my poison will never win

I vomit ink to cure the meat

of pages of empty sin.

 

Make me a steak of refusal-fate

and I’ll spit in my hand and grin.

I’ll slay whatever filthy hound

would cut my bile with gin.

 

I don’t know who I am when all these wordlets nip my skin

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Breath

I have forgotten how to be afraid
The star-bursts cannot sting or break
Their lightning slides off every wound.

I no longer give my heart

To fire-walkers, chaos-stars
My blood-beat burns alone.
I am on my own

Sharp stalking scissor-stress
Hot with fever, tracing my mess
The bile pushes at my lungs 
The sorrow wedges itself deeper in my blood

Veins that tighten and push nausea instead of red
I feel the sickness swirling through my matter
Each cell a slice of pain and confusion 
CUT ME UP AND SERVE THEM ON A PLATTER

Redirect

I’ve fought a thousand battles trying to find you, searching for some infinite desire that would anchor me to another

I found nothing and no one

Only dust. 

Just shadows full of twinkling promise,
Remnants of love; so I kept looking
And I discovered strength instead of companionship. 

Dignity instead of desire. 

Joy
in place of longing. 
And I am free of binding chains; now I search languidly, with expectation

Instead

Of desperation.