the emptyness of flesh

Tear me torip me tobreak me
       into f r g m n t s
                       (dull)

The vomit running in my eyes doesnt compare to the way in which you break my bones. This bruise reminds me of my mother and the way she used to bend.

Theres blood under the skin, but its out of place. Not unlike my brain which sinks  into the moist pocket of my skull, begging limp for freedom.

As you seep into my gut i wonder about the emptyness of space and how it must exist for i can feel its v a g u e edges in my chest.

My ribs press forward. My tongue sits behind split lips and rots: insipid and fearfull

Fervent you twist within me, spitting.
And choking myself from the inside i taste sour,
The bitterness of my stomach forcing red skins and shut eyes.
              Forcing my blindness to your face as unwilling as the automatic tense and release.


and now so suddenly lonesome with my raw and stretching skins,
          i scrape thee from my thighs
                      and inhale into the absense




5/11/10