musings of a pent up mirror

There's a dead man  
with his questionable faith  
wrapped deftly  
around my throat  
and a harpy woman  
that prods my heart  
with voodoo needles  
wedged somewhere barren  
in the deepest  
darkest recesses  
of my borderline thoughts.  
 
I want to scream about smoke  
and Fucking  
and electricity  
camouflaged as forgiveness  
dulcet to my deafening ear drums  
and razor moans  
tearing heart shaped lunacy  
into the tar invested pores  
of her skin.  
 
I've had dreams  
where I woke up  
convulsing and gnarled  
like a weeping butterfly  
on the windshield of my brothers car.  
Cold sweats  
draped in three a.m. heartache  
and the reincarnation  
of fourteen year old me  
with a butcher knife  
listening  
to the apathetic lulubay  
of stretching skin  
of tattoos  
and self medication  
in the closet.  
 
There's an illness  
in my Love  
and vomit on the tile  
of my apartment  
in the shape of roses.  
I used to believe  
stardust was beautiful  
until I snorted it  
and found heaven  
in a roaches sanctuary.  
Ashtrays are comfortable  
and fetal memories  
drift away  
like starving clouds  
translucent  
in pliable smoke.  
 
I've become  
an uninspired painter  
with all the reflection  
of Frida Kahlo  
and all the passion  
of a paper cut  
left in sixth grade.  
I'd peel back my fingernails  
like a decomposing love letter  
if I could feel  
their hands graze  
a Venus symbol
on my face.  
 
I stare at walls for hours  
I pick scabs  
and hope they bleed blue  
I decided doing both  
if cancer had a color  
it would be  
the decor of choice  
for a temple  
made of arsenic photographs
and his ashes.
 
I want death  
to taste like glass  
and I pray  
Summerland is a blackened sun  
I can detox in.  
Sex  
and sex  
and sex  
and sex.  
Tie me up  
but never touch me.  
Intice the high  
but force the low  
until I collapse  
into a morticians swansong.  
 
I enjoy the helplessness  
of a violin  
shy a tuned chord.  
I indulge in selfishness tonight.
I'll play the me  
they expect.