docislegend
you.
killer. fill me,
like contempt
this blood will boil
and tonight will end
but not with tragedy;
no, with agony that the
sun rises and bodies cease
motion for we're only human &
despite the yearning for another taste
I can only muster the energy to smirk & think
and lick my lips one last time before submerged in my
own sweat & beneath the haze of perfection I must close my eyes.
and here I am again, where my eyes wander slowly but my brain picks up nothing & without choice my mind starts firing off whatever breezes in, and usually it's hopes and wants and dreams, but this time a taste of reality sweeps in & I just want to fix this- see i'm in the process of loving & destroying and it's really the epitome of bittersweet. maybe if I just stay in here, I won't have to watch the collapse of muscle and fluid that my newly-shown honesty will trigger- maybe it's a bit selfish to think that way, but maybe i'm also tired of watching people cry on my behalf- people that care about my well-being & people that look at me and smile, and I lie with a reciprocated smirk & wait for them to see right through it (and they never do; for once I wish they would, but they never do). & when it's all over, their own mind will attack them & i'll try to be their defense; you didn't do anything, I swear- it was me me me, but i'm already the self-loving prick so all they hear is me talking about myself again & i'm sorry i'm a failure to you, but it's not because I want to be- no it's because while you're not entirely sure who I am, I haven't the slightest fucking idea & wanting to make everybody happy without picking and choosing is just going to make everybody miserable- but hey, fair is fair.
black & truth & white & lies
& nobody can tell the goddamn
difference; it's all in the paper eyes,
that crumple & tear from gentle touches,
& the bleeding ink; running slow like
an avalanche w/o a purpose.
misnomers go over so
well until the epiphany
that their mystery
was myth;
& all the misery
is the blizzard of
chivalry that was
really mental imagery.
below the scalp,
where my own fingertips come home
to, shaking feverishly in times of
moonlit bewilderment,
just above the shoulders that
carry the iron; weight that feels
something like a planet,
is an endless corridor
with painted doors as far
as sight allows; where keys
are created by the whispers
of surrounding armories-
behind each,
an army of color &
meaning & potential
& God, I'm just
wishing you'd
pull the fucking
trigger.
paralysis, hold me hold me
strings of your everloving glory-
i'm the prey in your web of stories;
your eyes terrify
and your legs graze me-
sensual & deceiving;
i'm never leaving,
just trying to smile through your
weaving of my casket;
my home; my head; your throne;
twirl, girl, we've spinnin' a while now,
down/down/down/down/down
the pipes like dreams so you
can see pearly white in the
plastic that surrounds us.
we'll never reach the
bottom, just a catch
here & there to
slow us down-
that is until
the well
runs
dry.
curtains hanging about my face,
swooping downward from slanted
brows. this is the last bit of
light i'll get before I trudge
into a coffin hoping to
be reborn into
renaissance.
this is what I do.
this is how I turn iron
into a Goddamned dream,
& this is why you will FEAR me.
THIS.
is the reason
I am what I am,
& you will feel it
when I approach.
terror or awe
so some combination of the two.
you will love me.
you will hate me.
I will intimidate you.
I am
because
I made myself
out of fucking iron.
you'll never.
never.
though my pupils like oceans
reach out forever,
you can see into
their abyss, (mind)
& never know what stares back-
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