Razorblade Poetry Read online

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.