Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Relapse II

I did it again
Lithe steel invading flesh
Cutting through skin

Memory is such an ugly thing
The feeling, the feeling.
The Buddhist hunt

Is starting.
Fallen monks.
Those asleep are blessed.

Pray for the dead.
The barb-wired fences
Of forgotten graves

Are rusting. I wonder
the feeling, the feeling
Of dull ends

Hungry wrists,

Marks that'll never fade,
Hide all you want.
Foolish virgins

Venerating porcelains.
Blind faith
Don't you miss it?

Stop with the pretending.
Puppet plays, charades.
give in, give in.

no tears are falling.
Drying drops on marble

Red as Irish heads.
As your nails too.
You think you're beautiful.

The silver is laughing.
Sword fights,
one always dies.

Are you satisfied?
I know you want more.
the restless throb.

Crying prostitutes,
Groaning old men.

As the rats in the ceiling.
No one will notice.

One more, just one more.
Pardon he who asks pardon.
Taste the cherry red.

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