. . .
Awoke from drunkenness
In this un-medicated hole.
Searched both arms for a track
Back to what you know.
In arms clasping, an empty flask
Overflowing with Celestine tasks.
How thoughtfully countering
Is the recollection of the past.
Stand up. Just stand up
You worthless sack of slime.
I don’t care if you’re numb
From the smell of turpentine
That floats on your breath
And burns your eyes
There’s something you’ve forgotten
in your prayers for demise.

I feel them clawing through the lines.
I hear them scream for air again.
All the hatred left inside is searing
To again tear down all of my sins.
The random thoughts lift up my hands
And place them across my chest,
Then lavish blue worms squeeze my heart
And chortle at my loss of breath.
Suddenly it scrapes inside my head
As something deep within me
Dregs up from the depths and
Etches in my ear their malady.

All the days of nothing more
And every day so blindly,
You whine at me, this selfish whore
But no one cares for your ‘tragedy’.
You’ve cast yourself the role of shit
And carry it with such pride.
This sin that lovingly taints your flesh
And you only wear inside.
When you look in the mirror and see my eyes
Do you understand how much you revile me?
How I’d cut you from me without hesitancy
And stand proudly in crimson papally.
But, I’m not so disgusting
You’re all filled with lies
And you tear every day
At the life that I tried
To build up for your sakes
And repair from my mistakes.
How lonely I’ve become from
Selling off the pieces of me.
And I scrape at my face
To find the cast iron
Replacement that never bears
Revelations of fleuron.
Suffocate.  Just suffocate.
You hateful, yet melancholy
Oppressor of myself;
Repressor of yourself.

Why?
Why?
Why do you think everything is fine?
Nothing is left to rebuild my life.
I would tear the face from my skull,
If only no one’d question how I fell.
Everything that wasn’t mine,
Will again rise to emphasize
Just how pitiful you are
To need and love watching me fall.
You sordid shred of rhapsody.
There is nothing good inside of me.
So, I scar myself again and again
To be handsome as a knight, strong as a gin.
Then a tonic of everclear flows through my soul
And the daily flesh-peeling takes less of a toll.
You torture me with fantasies of my own death
And I cut off some toes to torture you back.
But this all pales to describe the words that depose.
They fall from the heavens in lavender rows.
From the ones that surround me with love and denial
So savagely spreading my blood across the tile.
Try to clean me away from your memories boughs;
But I will remain in the forever stained grout.
In the mirror, the image is still torn, ragged felt
And I still hope for the day there’ll be nobody else.