without a pulse

only seeds were left

her white-washed cheeks

and those protruding bones.

just the little girl

next door in the window

pounding stained glass

with the hurry of heartbeat

now, there are only echoes of words

don’t look through the curtains

stay in the back alley

skipping over puddles,

smoke fills the house

abandoned and broken –

without a pulse.

loss of sight

 

 

his eyes

wide and glowing green

inside something snarled

it’s voice a blend of

grinding teeth and the cracking

of knuckles

 

inside

 

its mouth opening

rows of fangs

the blood of man or woman

 

swirling around

gurgling liquid crimson

like mouthwash

 

outside

sore and swollen

he is easy target

hard to miss this weak thing

walking on rusty train tracks

writing the end too soon

 

i know how this ends –

i just forgot how it started.

lost in skin

which scar is mine?

which smile is mine?

the texture of  pain

all rough, and bumpy

 

i have seen the footage and you have too.

evidence of decay scratched into skin

the backward rolling eye – visionless.

ready to be dissected by scalpels and knives.

 

ripples of light burn as

blackness traps my eyes

starting to outgrow my own breath

 

what goes unexplained

 

 

It’s a better story if i talk about

Finding flowers in open wounds

If i say it’s alright

If i tell you that i’m better now

That i can see the different

shades of morning again

Like i used to

Or if i talk about the spinning head demons

Running circles but there isnt really anything

Poetic about this pain

I cant make this a pretty ending.

red escape

Head spinning

Out of control.

Eyes, gone.

The hallways

Are empty but

no pace

To be.

Running

On an endless

Track.

The infection

Spreads,

All through my

Bones.

The sickness

It leaves me cold.

The t r e m b l i n g

Shudder comes

With a heavy fall.

Not a hallucination

Or even a nightmare.

This is the worst

Of reality.

Hands covered

With crimson

Red of my own

Blood.

There is no

Sting, only the slick

Relief

Straight line of

Shame knots in

Skin.

A fire cant burn forever

The flames begin as bright rage

a train wreck of rushing water

through broken windpipes and

out of tune voice boxes/

an endless series of darts thrown

head on

a fistful of promises and crushed violets

an exposed wire

knotting my arms into concrete

force of bitter beginnings

 

but you know what they say

a fire cant burn forever