I'm in a holding pattern,
turning in unending circles
despite myself
Chasing tail through unlearned lessons
in determined quest to bite myself.
Spending days in distraction
finding ways not to hurt myself.
Re-living debauched memories
in urgent search to find myself.
This is the Cemetery of Unbecoming
Buried seeds of lust and longing
Unmarked passes made and missing
Moldering in bargain bins
While single magpie loveless sings.
Muddy boots, palms blistering
I'll take a little risk again
Disinter this interest and
Allow myself a fix again
Basest of humanity;
faceless forms flick rapidly
through catalogues of flesh on screens;
engorge on empty lechery.
Perspectives over-pinned and tucked;
present the organs you want sucked
or maybe you will do the sucking…
Anything to break the fucking
tedium.
And if not flesh; what then, what's next?
Which path to clear a heart perplexed?
To undermine a mind obsessed
with poisons?
I can't destroy them
After all the things they've done,
Ever-present accompaniment
Greasing the slips, licking their lips
Instilling distillery dictatorship
Placing their bets while I plant my regrets
Supplanting my honour with guilty cold sweats.
Necromantical nectar
Throat golden with glamour.
This pyre of promises -
beacon of rancour.
Flare in the fumes of a belly distended
Expose silhouette of your soul villipended
And scorched scarlet afterglow cheeks unrepentant
Luminate languishing lustful intentions.
The fuel for destruction’s the same as creation.
Energy unspent explodes in frustration.
