Dark Heart

Sunset,
precious; don't fret,
only my lips are made of lithium.
Your fingertips, softly snapping my spine,
so cold - they make me numb,
like serpent venom pulsating in my mind.

Inhaling stones
I'm feeling crimson sing on my bones.

This sword is not my own, nor my hand;
but an eruption (of flame)
choking my tongue and heart (twisted in shame)
while I'm drinking what used to be sand.
The love rivers run thick with corruption
and the stepping stones are too far apart -
so I feel the loneliness like a poisoned dart.

Sunrise,
over the edge of your skin,
I'm a voodoo doll with more than one pin.
Still darkened by a figment of orgasm,
empty veins, that I could never fathom.

Criss cross,
like Guenwhyfar I'm barren, and like Arthur I'm at loss.

My lullabies only ever composed by shadows,
the dreary Alcatraz upon the wings of crows;
I fall asleep, into the Hellish deep,
taste the salty crimson that I weep...

Dissipating the smiles I once wore,
the felicity leaking through my hollow eyes.
Come, freedom - even my lungs are too sore;
I can't exhale anything but flies.

I'm drunk off all the goodbyes,
the intoxication making me feel dead,
And I see the sober Cupids that I despise,
each breath I draw is compiled of dread...