not a word
The jagged
moonlight
Couldn’t fix you
so I’ve got this
Selfish need to
bleed red roses
Of remembrance
Seven hundred
Stitches and it
Doesn’t mean a
Thing.
A poison tipped
Awareness
And a body
Aches for ravishing
But I didnt mean
Like this.
This plundered
Heart with its
Foolish beating
Counts the days
Down endless
Corridors of
Self destruction
Distraction
Refracting light
A prism through
Which nothing
Nothing ever
Shines
And I can’t make
Things right
The price is
Sickening
Flesh like
Rotting petals
A morbid intent
The darkness
And the darkness
And the weight of
Night
Suffocating
I had dreams
Of being a being
Of light
But there is no
Kindness in a
Garden of broken
Things
Come December come
Come solitude
Come the suicide
Of summer
Come the end to
Bloom
The fear and
The folly and the
Doom
The shuddering
I’ve done in the face
Of something
beautiful
If I partake
I’ll kill that too
I’ve got death
Living inside of me
Laughing and
Not a word
Not a word
Not a word.
