The carpet walls peel slow
as you smirk into the blue mirror
decorated with those colored plastic jewels
you always loved.
Paradise smiles into the wicker cottage
as the mundane bleeds from your pouted lips.
I've survived the Natives spears and seen
the devil in my room at night.
The smallest smoldering appears
in the corners of your tongue
as the lights begin to flicker.
The green flame of your eyes
renders my reflexes useless
as the just lit coffin nails
rest atop the gorilla hand ashtray.
Carbon collages snake the ivory walls
as she studies my skin in a bucket on the floor.
The end is coming for my mind.
I fear you'll return home soon
only to find me eating your furniture
and wearing your clothes, your other half
with his head in the Television.
You'll cringe then
and some shriek will alert the neighbors
The lunacy of our eyes connecting
in the almost nothing light
lets all the information seep into your head
as you begin to pull the pieces from my brain
I'll ball up on the floor then
and call my mother
to tell her,
"You should have hugged me more."
You watch me die of my own poison
and wipe the tears from my eyes.
Secret obsession aside
your comfort was all I wanted in life.
I really love some of your recent work, man. The anger and venom are still there, but they're taking on a more quiet tone that doesn't lose any of the brutality I tend to see in your work. Great read.
We lose all notion of when the worm turns, before too long, strange fruit grows fetid and soft, we make new bargains with our personal bastardizations, and comfort becomes cold when it's breath-fogged messages on second-story windowpanes...
