Affaire a Burlesque Chateau a Go-Go

Her shift starts with a shot to the head
The back of her skull
Blossoms like peacock feathers
Into a mascara stained sense of dread

The clock in ritual,

Blood mixing with grey matter
Against the wall
She paints like W. Turner
In a water color splatter


This is paralysis

Can I dance tonight?

Promise I wont bite.


She shaved her head
Into neo-punk hawk dreads
that seem to bloom
Like flowers and vines
To cover her wounds

And hide her eyes
With cross stitch tape
That delicately dilates
Reflecting stiletto nights
And glitter eye shadow fright


But it still doesn’t feel better
To feel nothing at all,
Complacent and fine
It seems easier
To simply repeat
The first line

Â…I have to be fine be fine be fineÂ….

She is down againÂ….

She used to love god
In a world where everyone steals
Her breath stolen
Wishing to be touched again
Simply wishing to feel


Industrial templates
And masquerades
She is a taste of ultra-violet
Mixed with a dash of ultra-violence
In a spiral of dirty bathroom stalls
Thinking of her mother
Just like her
And how she never calls


This is paralysis

Do you want a dance?

Pollution erecting from his pants


She will never ask for help
Assuming what is expected
From everyone else

And in taking off her clothes
No one will see what’s enclosed
Underneath homemade tattoos
And blood PH dosed


She doesn’t want to be complete
Only discrete
When she walks to the beach
To fall asleep
Weep
To fall asleep
Breath in subtle beats
To fall into sleep

She is neon butterfly wings

TornÂ….

The feelings she sacrificed...
No compensation will suffice...

But its an easy way to get by

Counting $20 intervals of time
And its monotonous rhyme



“She never asked to be saved”