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This wound cannot be patched as my blood runs gelatinous, sweet and black |
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Only to be tasted by the chafed lips of the inflictor, a mirror |
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The heavy-handed swift punishing judge whose sentence is lifelong and indifferent as puddles of stagnant water |
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You cannot stop the bleeding with patches alone, as saturation will reject all but infliction |
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Reparations all slide off into oblivion |
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The hunter and the hunted have become one |
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I was borne for self-destruction |
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Borne to bleed and freeze |
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Tears used to jimmy dried scabs of blood from these sheets |
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Pills to control, to redirect, to attempt to unlearn |
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Unsatisfied with what this world has had to offer |
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Satisfaction when the heart stiffens and succumbs to the hunter's hands, gelatinous, sweet and black |
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No more pills, no more adjournment |
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The higher the walls around the more |
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I will jerk them down upon me |
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It has become easier to bury the bodies than to bury the memories and impulsive thoughts that serve only to confuse and burden |
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One hand on the shovel, the other around my throat |
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Borne to bleed and freeze |
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I have broken all the warm hands that heal |
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Bones snap and shatter |
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Muscle tissue around the eyes stretch and quiver like a fish skinned alive |
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The only honest satisfaction |
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Cold and weak, |
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I hope none remember |
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I will be happy to forget |
