Portrait of a Whore/Burnt Pale Into The Sky

Opening a new chapter in the painters Book of Lies..
We come across a naked girl, with melancholy drawn into her cheekbones, and shame beaten into her eyes..
I center on her fragile bones with my moon-bent stare,
And doused in running paint, Remove my own fixed glare..

//Reflect On Yourself

I cannot lay in these sheets without feeling your touch..your wicked hands reaching up to strangle me, until every word finally drips onto this page.
Break my mouth, I never want to speak..
again..

Why do you indulge me in my desires.. Why do you watch______me
....
Your greasy lips and moistened tongue running up and down the splinters in my spine, and you catch yourself on the needles.. .. . you catch yourself on the needles..
Now I know that when you return to my own red-studded mouth, you will taste of shallow blood.. You hold it inside yourself for me..

.you crave release.

Would chocolate-drenched weeds, and doubtful flowers prove my love to you?
--If I picked them alone in the bright neon of fall,
Autumn draws me in--

This pen does not deserve to touch the pores of this paper, it is selfish : Taking all in
..
Could I?___this is not my fever to break..
It is up to you [No]w.

I'm your weak addict. I knock on the doors of the rich to beg for gold, and cry on the steps of the poor asking for razors and escape from the cold..

|R|A|Z|O|R|S|

Straight slices to remove my face, square by square.
I've not asked for your sympathy. . .

.I pray to the dead marigold, In hope that the words never stop. I've kept my own out of the risk
{of loving torn flesh}.

.Do.Not.Give.In.

the heaviest burden of internal conflict falling all over these rolling hills..

I could (never)

-///-

Won't you drop me into a bed of glittering star-gazers. . . They only watch in hopes they'll be taken soon, to a place of beauty that never rests.

..help me escape this frightful place..
where all are strong and elegant except myself

I step outside of the portrait, and knowing now of her endeavours this virgin seems holy, this whore seems grand.
I have known her, and I will be her..

as dawn approaches,
I open my eyes

Am I Awake?

{let all disappear}
Remove the ground from beneath my frail feet..
and let me hang above the flame like a whisper.
.Let me hang.
I'll make it through this without a wound...
No lead for those creatures to majestically swoon.

"goodnight, I think I'll watch you sleep my love"

.you always watch me.
and I'm not sure if I want it or need it.
It is the difference between lust and love//is it not?

Regardless,
close your eyes and let the warmth of sleep surround you, and the plasma that is a dream nest itself inside your cobweb filled mind.
Think yourself to dreams..

the galaxy spins on the idea of you waking up in the morning to look me in the eyes and say. . .

"I've nothing more to say, You're mine"

I long for that moment...
until then , I have to be content with drunken fantasies and you dazed-speechless..

.. I'm surrounded by these moments that never fail to sting my eyes..

but relief lies in knowing, I can look up at the sky and watch her(myself) burnt into the pale abyss

.....
....
...

Am I Awake?