Razorblade Poetry
Trapped within the Asylum
The glittering sky is so far away,
so far away from the asylums.
My straightjacket is made of leather and lace,
buttoned with the fines of diamonds.
I'm a queen of the rut,
a ruler of madness,
empress of the gothic asylums.
My arms are bruised where they left them,
sore with holes and slits.
My blood drained dry with pens and pencils,
my eyes are a sickening sight!
I'll collapse in your arms for now, dear doctor.
To rest my weary head for the night.
I haven't a dream to aspire to seek,
and no one will visit this dank hospital.
My love, he left, he left!
His leather shoes sliding across the floor,
sssh, I can hear them...
I smell them as they fade away, smothered in wet grass
and mud.
His cologne, clinging to his bitter, salty skin
stares back at me as I groan!
His hair, so dark, so famed, so perfect!
Growls a hiss at my outstretched hands.
Where am I? But who?
And who are on earth came before he did?
No one, says I, the queen of asylums.
But the ghosts you were before you did.
Untitled One.
The cobwebs shriek a testament of woe
as their creator crawls across their arms.
They whimper out in fear as their god
stretches its long, wispy legs across the tendrils
of its silvery, ghostly being.
It tastes its death, a struggling white moth caught on
the line.
It shivers as the creator takes it time,
savoring the erratic movements of its prey.
The webs stir in the October wind,
fearful of destruction,
fearful of pain.
No nerves connect its beauty,
but small spiders do.
No heart beats through its system,
but deadened heartbeats deader still
by time and suffocation.
How horrid and glorious to be a spiderweb,
in the few hours or years that pass.
To be spectral and evanescent,
instant with no remorse.
Bloodlust
Your perfect star held me
up, behind a gossamer tree.
Spiders clung to its teal leaves
as silvery silk rained down on me.
Your hands, pale and cold,
trembled within mine.
Together, I held us close,
like reflections in an aurora sky.
My heart was old and dead,
decayed where veins once shuddered.
My bones were ancient and crammed
into a fleshy suit of murder.
I grasped your delicate throat,
unwary as you trembled with fear.
I pressed my lips upon your humanity,
and drained you of everything you held dear.
Numinous
time, carelessly spinning
but never moving
and never moving as we might
think. it flows in streams
past our human dreams
and never makes the trees grow.
lights flicker, and the moon glitters
in snow- scapes of auroras and water beams.
planets dead, extinguished so long ago
still come to us in a steady, glimmering shadows
of life.
racing past perception,
winding and caressing the unwary senses
of children.
fairies and angels,
gods and heavens,
deadened planets and suns
we will never know.
Post Mortem
oh, calamity!
how your face sheds red tears,
bleeds black ink from your sapphire
spheres...
death visits her,
his onyx robes enshroud her,
envelop her.
pale hands, the coldest flesh, seduces her rouge
lips to parting.
She weakly tastes death, a new ending,
a dismal beginning.
Her dress, scarlet and belted with rubies, gemstones,
diamonds, crosses, and mirrors,
drapes down the cold, gray floor.
She follows him silently through the bold, gothic door.
"Here is death, and life, and love,"
he reaches down to stroke her throat.
oh, calamity!
she gives in to him sadly, her pale face mourning the loss
of her only begotten soul.
he takes her to the bed,
red silks and white furs,
satins and bows,
peer up at her blindingly from behind the curtains.
"I love thee," she gazes upon the face of her death.
Herself.
Death sheds his cloak, and becomes a man.
She is his to take, and he will take her now.
Her skin dies as he grazes his fingers across it.
Her arms die first, her hips closely follow.
Her bright, blue eyes watch her skin become rotten,
once so smooth and dewy
now blue and rough.
"I'll love you, dear. Til death do us part."
She stares at him knowing, they will never
see the end of light--
the edge of chaos.
The dark planet they exist on will turn with lust and wars,
love will be forgotten when money is cast upon the floor.
She yields against him softly, surrendering to decay.
She will stay with him like this forever
and die a slow disease.
oh! calamity.
I Watched You Die
I watched you die!
So cold inside, and still you follow
me
down.
I stood by your side!
I held your hand,
and you whispered your love to me through
cracked, bleeding lips.
My world had ended!
But you're standing there,
unaware
that I followed.
The world is full of holes
and I am trapped, and too exposed.
What was I thinking?
This prison has no escape,
I've fallen into sorrow.
I shuffle my cards,
telling a story.
You look up at me from the King of Cups.
Reversed, and hating me
like I hate myself.