Poltergeist

You were dead years before
your death

A lingering scent
of rotted flesh and broken spirits

An arsonists soul
leaving burnt corpses in your wake

With the violent silence
of pounding hearts filled with dread

You drained the blood
leaving victims long before your death

and with your death
the poltergeist remains

So on this eve of all saints
I pour a glass of whiskey
for your unearthed grave

Him: The Other M (What’s Unsaid)

You make me unsteady
wobbly on my feet
shake my breathing

You scare me
deep to my core
like an imploding supernova

You stepped out of nowhere
a silhouette from the dark
with the dark words my heart needs

You make me smile
like a silly girl
dreaming of hearts and flowers

You make me wet
like the naughty woman
blooming despite barren earth

You make me
you simply make me
unable to breath
unable to speak
unable to dream

You tell me all the right lies
and listen to all my woes
without running
without blinking
you are still there

But don’t say I did not warn you
the truth is there in the tags
in the words written
late at night
when darkness hits hardest
I am a runner

You make me seek the devil I know
like the neglected child
forlorn and disregarded

You seduce me
physically and mentally
but mostly emotionally

But don’t say you weren’t warned
on the day I disappear
running away before the truth arises
that you are not what you seem
and I will be left in the tall grass
waking from a daze

Don’t say you were not warned
the day I disappear
leaving nothing more
than disturbed earth
and a six foot grave

You, my dear man, make me unsteady
you make me inconsolable
you make my world convulse
and you are not the devil I know

Hel

I am a scream without a voice
I am a liar
I am unanswered.

I can not escape this haunting
I can not outrun my mind
I can not die.

You are the arsonist
You set the fire
You burned my corpse.

You started this.
I can not stop this.
Only Hel can end this.

I wait for Thanatos
To find me
To save me.

 

Immolation

You don’t see me

You see what you want to see
the broken doll who dances for your pleasure
or the angry depressive who refuses to take your blame

You don’t see me

You only see what you need to see
the sparkly shards that glint in the sand
or the pretty painted affectations that spark your imagination

You don’t see me

You only see what you project upon me
the pictures you pull from my words
or the interpretations you decide lie between the lines

You don’t see me

You see only what you want to play with
the toy that waits beneath a bow to unwrap
or the silent object for your manipulation

 

You

 

Don’t

 

See

 

Me

Yet here I stand, plain as day, performing vivisection upon my soul
displaying my entrails upon the glistening sands
waiting for the gypsy to read the tea leaves of my self immolated wounds