We’re worthless,
Yet you extort from us this silt.
A diatribe
Of dancing on your plaster stage of guilt.
Ever giving
All our condemning twists of fate.
Spiral run
And let our tomorrow blade erase.
Question not
How lines trace names upon our face.
Singularly
Just one life stitched in disgrace.
Chorus lights
Etch a map to hollow out
Every word
That you have driven into our hearts.
But, never asking is the way we’ve come to be
A jackal’s laughter brings us down upon the freed.
Our fingers twist around until they come to find
A way to ease the pain that boroughs in our eyes.
This is the way that we have come to deny.
All the timid suggestions you’ve forced on our lives.
How could you question why we look to the sky?
Through this travesty
so
damn
refined.
This is the way we bleed,
Perilous, yet so content.
Place our hands down flat
Whip our palms and brand
A number on our chests,
A tarot of descent.
This is the way we bleed.
On our knees, we stand.
As nothing
Lives the squalor of our remedies.
Vaporize
Our agony into a harrowed steam.
Lay us down
With gifts of reeds of Pollock scale.
Leverage
Our dependence on loves alone upon the shale.
Separate
The fingers across the rind of ever more.
Lacerate
Us with syllables slipped out between our chores.
Paralyze
As we become more and more entwined.
Suicide
Of a culture in exchange for twists of lime.
And, never caring is the way we no longer fake,
These morbid humors that are reality’s mistakes.
We will not question how the knife feels on our necks.
Open eyes in darkness, just as our memories turn black.
Just give into the lust for ambiguity.
This is the only way that you would want us to be.
How could you question why in nightfall we will dite?
Through this travesty
so
damn
refined.