Succumb
Have we succumb
Madness on wrong sides
Of a shotgun promise
Redemption never to come
Only licks of insanity
Deserters choosing bullets
Choosing sides that have not
A name to claim
While we succumb
Madness on wrong sides
Of a shotgun lurking
Essence
The essence of confusion
Revealed in my faults
When I desperately want
Want to heal without
Erasing who I have become
Even if it isn’t what I
Wanted in all I envisioned
Leaving me wondering
What am I in a world
Without the faults I
See as my own being
The essence of confusion
Where I do belong
Revealed in my fault lines
When I desperately want
Want to heal without
Erasing who I am
Songs Cut
Songs cut off at the
Ankles yet they move
Through the muck and mire
Surrounding my feet
Second market scenes
Giving way to screams
Where I see
See me more than most
High upon the songs
Coloring me pallid
Below my noted crown
Covered by the ground
Pushing songs further into
The muck and mire
Surrounding my feet
Disintegration
Took aim at my fascination
Left to discarnate disintegration
A forsaking too brutal in conquest
Upon forever leanings Death
Did promise with his hands
Wrapped around mine time
And time again his precious
Precious doll meddled isn’t
Words only fashioned and stuck
Took aim at my fascinations
Raped them clean from
My natureous beast
For nothing remained other
Than longing vigor
Useless in its means
Never means to
An end bitter vile
Back of my tongue
Unable to speak incantations
To bring back Death
What he violated in
My salvation greyed and fray
Yet all my own
Delicate Kiss
Come a little closer
A delicate kiss awaits
Give me what I need
This drug beneath
Your sallow skin
I crave success
In your blood
I exalt in delight
Hold me close
Can you feel this
Feel what I need
This drug beneath
Your flushed skin
Beating out its own
Mesmerizing summons
For a delicate kiss
Doubt
Truth in the deceit
Laid to waste by
Doubt I could not replace
By midnight coming to
A million pieces like
Stars above I become
Blind to the plight of
As minutes tick away
Promised the sky so
High above to be warmed
By truth in the deceit
Laid to waste by
Doubt you did not take
By midnight coming to
A million pieces
Dolls
Cut my grosgrain ribbons
With bloody rusty scissors
While Mama cried and yelled
As if her little girl
Was abandoning all
Hopes and dreams
Of an upbringing
Anything less than dramatic
A box of matches
Set alight in flight
Softer than grosgrain
Spun around lies
Dress them up as
Little dolls so no one
Sees the broken hearts
Rotting inside the illusions
I grew weary of one day
And I cut my ribbons
With scissors rusted by
My own blood
