I am outdated plastic flowers where a heart used to be;
Lemon & Pine scented
– a comfort, a card with “Best Regards” providing reptilian warmth in lieu of human touch.
(Ssssss… I do what I can sss sssss)
Although I can be much softer an animal than most would anticipate. Silky smooth.
A pilgrimage well worth the journey inwards, and upwards.
Torn apart; and burst in to primary colour
dogeared and discarded
I am a laughing daughter, revelling in the driest satire; amongst a sea of slapstick.
I am a test-tube tragedy, grown within the womb of my starving sister.
I am unwanted and desired; in equal portions; likened to christmas dinner in April.
I am the illness; that replaced
I am universally misread, and critically acclaimed; written in crimson ink on ivory flesh; life spoke me sweetly in to the void
they tell me, I look best
bequeathing nourishment to lust
I am only literatures willing and eager bitch. Only a whore to the spirit; or a myth who would ask so eloquently.
Do you even chew before you swallow?
Can you taste the moon tainted skin She left me dressed in?
I found god today; sleepwalking with stars
caught in-between the meat He left
under my finger nails
If only the morning after, I could remember His name.