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lust
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.
darkroom
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.
print
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.
solved
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.
endless
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.
spider
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;
drain
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.
ragged
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.
stick
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.
reader
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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