Skin graft, tattoo pinprick, and the needles gift of ink

How'd you feel with all that caution tape wrapped around your face? And the barbed wire binding your hands together, keeping them in place.

That must have been nice. So secure.

How did you like all those splinters of shattered bone working their way into your muscles and nerves? Did that feel good? Do you like it when it burns?

That must have been nice. So warm.

Gagged with a rag drenched in kerosene. Did it feel good to let all the pain out in muffled screams? Did that quench your hunger for flames? With something so flammable coursing through your veins.

Oh I wonder how it felt. It must have been so nice, so nice.

Draining you of all vitality and life left within. Could you feel every pinprick of the thirsty needles as they drank blood from your skin?

All that attention, you must have loved it. I'm jealous.

Did you even hear the sound of your own head hitting the cold slab of steel? Were you already unconcious, or could you still feel? Just because your eyes are closed and you're not breathing, that doesn't mean you're dead. The way you laid there so still, the curve of your hips just whispered and begged.

So jealous.

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Wrote this a few days ago and posted it on a different website that not all of you read, so I figured I'd put it on here too.

By the way, I do like constructive criticism, so if you don't like something, tell me. I hate just hearing good things about my work, my head is already too big. (It's really the hair, not the skull, but still.)

Follow the railroad tracks, like a double-layered spine on the earths back

These are the demons that trick and coax
All the fingers thrust down thirsty throats
You swam through the rubble of ash and dust
With asphyxia ascending on your esophagus
While chorus lines and screams escape
Between bent bars on iron gates
And on jagged rocks, bones are splintered
Skin is filled with sand and slivers
And thoughts are lost as grip slips
Like words that burst through ripped lips
Traveling down rocky roads on cliffs edge
Take the corner and a deep breath
Warning signs of poison nuclear hazards
Toxic chemical spills, radioactive cadavers
And the dead walk alone across frozen ash
Twisted metal and broken glass
Dragging entrails across cracked cement
Trails of blood and ripped up flesh
Tangled in tightrope power line balance beams
You’ve got voltage in your veins
And electrostatic dreams
The signal vanished in a blizzard
Of airwave snow
And the antennas transmission withered
As it fell off the radio
The last thing she said was “Let me go”
As chains wrapped around her throat
She dropped a metal-inscribed help-me note
And it said, “Follow the railroad tracks,
Like a double-layered spine on the earths back”
And the search party looked for days
Following footsteps and fabric frays
Nothing was found within the caves
So we buried your memory in a shallow grave

With words that twist like razor wire

I buried hooks in your lips
To hold your mouth open
Your vocal cords ripped
And your voice box is broken
Reaching past cracked teeth
Down your throat to your guts
Giving you what you need
Filling you with razorblade cuts
Why go through all this trouble?
To see the pain in your eyes
I’ll use my tongue as the shovel
And bury you in lies
An arsenal of hemorrhaging words
Flow past my teeth like blood
Pouring out of veins that burst
Drowning you in a syllable flood
And I slice through your nerves
With my serrated tongue
While your organs burn
And your limbs go numb

Caution Tape

Be careful what you say to a writer,
your words might end up on paper.

Anatomy of a Hungry Eye

The licking corneas out of eyelid mandible slits
Desire a taste of color on retina lips
And a thousand autonomous eyes blink
With captivated bodies unable to think
And they're sharpening all of their eyelash-teeth
Sinking them into liquid scenes and the pictures beneath
Feeding on a perfect sense of sight
Color spectrum spills into the night
Trickling down god-blessed stained glass
With every property that acid-rain has
In the darkest of blue and red shades
Each tint and value a different taste
And they open eyelid jaws to capture vision
Pupil-throats translate images transmission
Thirsty and searching for a certain spectacle
That will fill a hunger for something beautiful

I am your father, your mother is this pen

Heavy eyes push uncontrollable looks
Release the pressure with needles and hooks
Pushing past all the instincts in nerves
With knives and glass, cut crescent curves
Replacing veins with tubes and wire
Like water in oceans and flames in fire
Which way should you move?
Trapped on the lines of this schism
Cut too deep and got caught on a groove
Hesitation gives way to paroxysm
Parallel to indecision
A mark on your cornea marks the depth of your vision
Near-sighted, frightened, and mortified
A tattoo on your chest says “[W]hor[e]rified”
And through all of this I realized
You’re just a part of a poem, a couple of lines
I’ve been holding you captive inside my thoughts like a tomb
Gestating ideas inside my mind like a womb
And finally, giving birth onto paper, you’re spilling out of my pen
You’re a creative process, and I don’t see an end
You’re a font with underlines
I can italicize
And bold you to make you seem like more than just a word
You're nothing more than twisting design, doesn't that hurt?
You are nothing more than spiraling inspiration
Conceived in my mind, you are my creation

Tempting

I woke up in a room full of a thousand Madonna’s
And none of them could compare to your beauty, my goddess
Encircling, enclosing, and taking turns in their own ways
Not one tainted touch could compare to your embrace

Amour Abuse

The teeth marks on my neck only prove you were restless
And the scars that form won't let me forget this
Take the pills out of my throat, bring me back to my senses
I never bruise, so you thought you'd leave something to last
Punched the mirror, wrote your name in blood and shards of glass
Maybe it was a little over the edge, but I love your art work
And the fingernails digging into my back just make me go harder
You could have wrote a nice little letter, but that's not your style
You love to confuse me with tears and a smile
A fist to the jaw and a kiss to the cheek
I would walk away now but I fear I'm too weak

Self-control was never my best quality

Bloodlines

Watch this serrated tongue
Slipping down your throat, into your lungs
Feel your skin crawl with beetles
Injected with poisovenomous needles

I caught your last breath to use it as my first
There's nothing like death to quench my thirst
I follow the tremors to see which hurts worst
There's nothing like watching a capillary burst