No Paper Required

 
You can smear it  
on your walls  
go bury your tongue  
in its stench  
Recite it  
all by yourself in the dark  
pretending there's something...  
  
a trick about it  
that smells sweet  
  
You can hold it  up to the light  
and gaze  
through your own sticky fingers  
watching the dirty words drip down  
until their fascination  
becomes  
compelling  
  
You can wash it all off  
before you go outside  
smile at Ma and Pa  
or the girl next door  
sip your tea and be  
polite  
  
And because it's easy  
to pretend  
it's also easy to forget  
the darkness has its price  
  
But the more you  
mess with it  
the more you pay  
  
And blood and fire and hate and pain  
is not a fashionista currency  
it's for life  
  
Sometimes poetry  
is like human shit  
there's not much good comes out of it  
except feeling better  
after  
the event