Previous Residence: Under the floorboards.|
Current Residence: Dancing on the ceiling.
(stamps I did before knowing the rules...)
A Prayer for AshGray-born creature with no eyes to seeA Prayer for Ash by DerelictVampire
the parasites crawling from the cuts and sores
sliced through the blood-rich flesh
that tells me I’m alive.
To lay aside the vein—my goal
is roseate corpuscle, thin and twisted
like vines from the grapes of wrath
so dead and dry they are less than
the smallest vistas on a gaslight road map,
illumination too weak
to cast the faintest shadow
on an unknown highway.
This is how I try to find my way,
and no horror or flurry of the carrion’s feathers
ever points anywhere
My compass broke long ago.
Still I keep it as a memento, a reminder,
of the dark, directionless momentum
toward my lovely, mindless rage.
I love it so.
I’m happy when there is no me,
when the fire burns so hot and blinding
I only understand a metal box on the sidewalk
begging me to beat the fucker
into a cabernet dream—
red and black and cracked
from all I have to offer:
thirst and violence.
Burn, burn me
Need to Believe to NeedI lie to myself, I lie on my bed--how longNeed to Believe to Need by DerelictVampire
was I convinced I needed no one?
On my back, chest heaving toward the sky,
silent sobs burst from my eyes
as hot, salty water.
My arms reach out involuntarily;
I think a feminine ghost crawls into them.
Wrapped around the air
(the place where nothing's there),
I squeeze my own body into a stupor,
muscle and fat and skin and bone
twine around themselves...
and I feel empty.
I slap my pecks with both hands and reach
to a heaven I don't believe in,
to look outside myself
and find salvation.
Not in God, the Universe, Krishna, Brahma
or a Buddha in paradise
sitting on a many-petaled lotus flower.
what I need
is someone in my arms.
Why I LiveThe snake with hooded shelter,Why I Live by DerelictVampire
shadow from the desert burn...
I sink in thoughtful solace
'til it strikes and poison hits like opium.
It has the knowing:
no malice or hate; it knows itself is fair.
When venom runs its course...
(do I rage in beautiful despair?)
But something in me fights like demons
against the seeping atrophy.
In the end, one thing I know,
should I rise or fall:
Without my life,
without my life...
nothing can be known at all.