No Good Dirty Rotten Beauty Queen

My
beautiful,
sick,
and twisted,
lies,
feed the ego,
I try and run from.

No shade,
or conspiracy,
will confine the dark parts of my mind.

Instead,
the maddening hunger,
and power to drive the earth to its end,
support my maddening quest.

Bless,
this,
messy homicidal beauty pageant. 

Sweaty Bones

The lovely bones crackle,
while the body swivels
and sways.

The skin is cool to the touch,
but the blood is boiling.

The life force is draining,
choking out from a dry,
hoarse,
throat.

This body can't move,
yet it tries
with a mighty feat
to stand up,
to push on.

All those years spent,
welcoming the inevitable.

I'm not ready to die. 

Blackout

There are few times,
in a persons life,
that they need to incorporate a blackout.

I began to develop my craft at a young age.

My first recollection is in church.

Mother and father were adamant to spread the word of God to their only son.

What they didn't count on was my inherent ability to leave my body,
and explore my psycho subconscious.

The subconscious was a beautiful place I visited quite often as a child.

If I wasn't dreaming away in church,
I'd be drifting off during my cousins volley ball games.


Often times,
I'd swim my way out of math and science class.

It wasn't until I grew older,
that missing these classes became a problem.

My grades began to suffer,
forcing me to use my technique during manic episode from my parents.

Sexuality was forced on me,
so I used the blackout method to help me forget its fiery scorn. 

 My father began to notice my extra curricular trances
and enslaved me with back breaking work.

Suddenly I had lost my power.

I was no longer a child,
but a youth,
expected to contribute as an adult.

My world had become clouded,
and real feelings started to hurt.

No longer could I cuddle into a ball,
weightlessly floating in a bubble.

The bubble had popped,
and I was caught in an everlasting rain cloud.

Scorched by the lightning,
and left to die,
I tried to die.

Trash,
floating downstream,
and washed out,
I had found my way back to the void.

But this time I was no longer in that once,
magical place.

This was a cold,
stale place,
where dreams evaporated.

Like a coma you wish to break free from,
but can't find the yellow brick road home.

It was you.

An otherworldly being,
who reached into the piles of embers,
and removed an ashy carcass. 

A single hand,
extended to a defeated heart.

To you,
I owe much more than life.

You,
a true phoenix,
who burns eternally,
no matter the amount of rain that presses upon you.

A gold hearted soul,
who makes all of the scorn,
Eden.