the natural allure
i saw it, from you, to the ground.
it seeped
to those dusty pebbles
it was sickly slow, a dark mess
a molasses that gave life
to gold-crusted desert grass-
we wallowed our lives away in it.
disgust; a want that consumes.
I've had the hands of an unmentionable sin
the voices of countless dripping, jagged maws
scrambling above my clavicle-
for the domination, the power, the rush, the
god complex-
these pulsating clusters of dying eyes
watching me, teeth barred and claws aligned
seem to be connected to this manic energy.
theres a throbbing behind my eyes that stays without fail.
theres a hole in my heart that is ravenous and void.
theres a pull so deep i can almost tug on it myself-
and i feel it as a want, an easy-out from
this erratic, emotional, out-of-easy path I'm taking.
leave me be-
my hands are theirs
victorious in their parasitic decay
entropy, atrophy,
leave this rotted frame to rest
far from your golden soul
in the blood soaked grass
leave me,
don't become me-
or you'll find yourself waking up
in dead grass
with scarlet molasses on tainted hands
nothing in wild eyes
(yours, theirs, or mine)
YOU ARE READING
NEW HEARTS & COLD SEAS
Poetrywhen they seek you out because they know they can, because they know they can get away with it - anonymity is your friend.
