someFlowermouth

Dead as the Moon's surface, what we were never meant to see

Wake with alarm- death is not the end

A cruel mark to end the silence

It goes on until it stops

I am in Love with a sickness bred well along corrupted generations, inhabited by sick bodies left to wilt, touched by trembling hands to cold, blue lips

I want to find the body of a suicide

I only get aroused by perverted violence or silence

I have the aversion of sex like that of a rape victim

One hug would kill me

Kiss my ribcage carefully chislied open

Rend my spine

No- it is not enough- it is dragged out far enough- stop it here, kill it as it is born

I have the fragile heart of a woman within my tortured flesh, and it only receives mockery when I offer it to the beloved with my twitching, bleeding hands

Nothing... Inside... Outside... Within... Without

Nothing

The invention of time, the mindless was of the clock, the used hole of a woman

My life has been a trainwreck ever since I thought a romantic longing could ever be satisfied with anything but disapointment

Return to the place you once regarded with wonder to know it was all within you, and now It's all lost

She was still as a tree, staring wide as a moon like an owl, endless as the fog on some perilous shore

Only in raving madness do I feel anything