CHAPTER Five: The Bodies Fell Like Raindrops
I Need You To Understand
In the bathroom again,
This time, alone.
The razor is in my hand,
Stop me. Stop me. Stop me.
It's the pain, don't you understand?
The pleasure you receive from self inflicted pain is,
is incredible, is mind bending, is intoxicating,
But your pain, if I could I'd drink it like wine.
I'm out of control again, six count them six,
Okay, it's not that bad, but have you ever tasted blood?
Have you ever cut the inside of your mouth,
It bled, right?
Didn't it take you to a new level?
I crave that taste, that sensation,
that pleasure, that euphoria,
that satisfaction, the quieting of the screaming inside,
Stop knocking at the door, please?
I'm almost done, okay, okay, I'm coming.
The door stays locked, what do you want?
I'm already gone, and this feeling, do you understand the
Feeling?
The way you feel when you loose
Blood?
Lots of it, you feel weightless,
Please, stop yelling, I'm getting a little dizzy,
I'll be there in a minute,
The knocking stopped, now there is crying,
Begging, pleading, crying.
I slide the razor under the door,
The door stays locked,
Apologizing, followed by more knocking.
CAN'T YOU JUST LET ME ENJOY THIS?
Because she doesn't understand the need to..
Bleeding is an art-form,
A way off....
Patching my wounds I find fresh skin.
The voice on the other side of the door gets
Replaced by slamming fists,
Screams of anger, frustration, fear, love.
Still a little hazy here,
I need you to understand,
To fully grasp my point of view,
To understand who I am,
And What I Feel:
This was never about pleasure,
It's about enlightenment,
To unlock your mind,
To free yourself from yourself,
To understand reality, all of it.
The blood is a symbol.
One through seven begins to bleed nicely,
The six razors in my pocket cry to me,
I pull each out and make a new incision,
Patching, calming, and relaxing.
The door has stopped.
Given up.
Gone home.
The door stays locked.
This is my sanctuary,
My place of solace and rebirth,
I close my eyes briefly before I hear a bang at the door.
She screams for me to cut up on my wrists
That is "if" I want to die,
What a great idea
The ultimate understanding of life
All the answers revealed
Prove everything/everyone wrong/right,
I would know everything.
I pick up a razor out of the sink,
Sit on the bathtub, filled with steaming water,
The swipe was too deep,
I wen...up..
...I'm diz...need to brea...
I hear "Please, I love you"
Please.
I.
Love
You.
Then nothing.
Now: I wait.
It's done.
Lonely Love
With the hands of her loved ones in jars she could rest,
their eyes dangling from the ceiling watching her as she drifted off into dream land.
Smearing the internal organs on the bedsheets as a turn down service, a "good morning, Dear"
She hugs her self with razor blades, eyes closed and smiling.
They are all here to watch me, protect me, and love me
.
The eyes watch from the ceiling, the heads lay hollow in pillow cases on the bed.
Every moment: decay and stench rising
She drifts off into sleep easily, the arm of her lover holding her tight
Severed with bloodstains fresh the fingers grip her skin
All these men, they were looking for love too.
She told them she'd sell them love, they couldn't resist.
She just wanted to be cared about, so void of emotion,
She wanted the flesh, the blood, the souls of love to fill her to the brim.
They followed in happily, ready to accept their end of the bargain.
Gracefully the teeth of a chainsaw bit through their bones,
In slow motion their blood painted the walls,
She bathed herself in their love, digging deeper into his stomach,
Their hearts, the one thing she desired, was devoured with ravenous hunger.
Beads of steaming water slammed her body,
She reached softly and touched the torsos in the tub,
Washing her face in the sink full of teeth,
She wraps in a satin gown as her mind grows hazy.
This melting reality becomes heavy,
The carpet is sticky with blood,
It's hard to moves with these walls closing in,
Visions of light flood her mind, comatose purgatory.
In the kitchen she wakes on the floor,
Still searching for that true love, she's so lost.
A knock at the door brightens her eyes,
Another man searching for love,
One smile, one gesture, and he's found the girl he'd spend the rest of his life with.
He didn't love me.
He wanted to leave,
he was scared of me,
scared of my love.
His arms will hold her tightly into the night,
His mouth will whisper sweet nothings as she sleeps,
His lips will kiss her neck,
His feet will play with hers,
She'll sleep tonight bathed in his blood.
Social Stains
Sitting in the back of the bus, I try my best to bury my face and mind
In this book, I hide from this reality which I'm
Subjected to.
The smell of piss and body odor fill this
Corroding cabin full of the bottom-feeders
In search of something to suck or fuck
or smoke or steal
to find one another under freeway bridges,
Inside restaurant bathrooms,
By the bus stops,
Reeking of alcohol and shit,
Slurring and stumbling into
the darkness.
Moving towards the nearest
Handout to feed your mind with
Toxic chemicals to help you forget
Just how bad you have stained society
I search for the sympathy
In knowing these were once functioning,
Working class people with lives,
Houses, cars, families,
Now with nothing more than a Wal-Mart bag,
Rags for clothes, and a beard stained with regret.
Stop Requested: to go and get high,
to buy a person's company,
gain that small amount of money,
feed your children,
hide in the shadows.
People without names gather round the sign polls,
Change and plan in hand,
Shaking in the cold and scratching,
Lifting that bag to your mouth,
Flipping off cars as they pass.
Waiting,
Waiting for the Forsaken Express,
To gather up all the sob stories
All the depression
All the forgotten
The lost
The lonely
The Damned.
They wait and wait,
To step up into that disgusting
Florescent light flooding the trash filled isles,
Bathing you in your fears.
I sit in the back to observe,
To read and escape,
To wonder if I'm just like these people,
To search for hope.
I sit in the back of the bus,
Where I can see everything.
The Stage Is Set
The curtains open,
I sit alone in the back row,
watching them devour each others soul.
Wings plucked from the deserving Angel,
Given to the manipulative Demon,
The light burns bright, yet all I see is darkness.
Unnoticed yet beloved,
Knowing not what lies beneath the beautiful skin,
Tear the nails out of the martyr's hands,
Taste the blood, sweet and bitter,
Anger and fear build up,
The levees break, the towns flood,
Frustration and panic is wide spread,
I stare intently at the stage,
Eyes focused on the main Actor.
As he shouts
"Give Me My Wings!"
A tear streams down my face,
I stand and applaud,
The rest of the audience turns to face me,
Anger and hatred fill their accusing eyes,
I drop to my knees and throw my hands on my face,
Hysterical, they point and laugh,
I look up, tears pouring out of my eyes,
to an empty amphitheater,
The curtains close slowly,
music softly plays, filling my senses with sadness,
I stand up, and walk out into the rain.
Chapter Six: We Have Become
The Meaning of Existance
Pulling these needles from my fingers,
I pause for a moment,
Enjoying the ecstasy through the pain,
I am a body frozen in time,
A scene skipped over in the film,
The credit no one sees,
Existing in the moments that were never lived,
Connecting the hidden pieces in our minds,
Scattering the results to diminish the flames.
Her Blood:My Lips
This bleeding never seems to disperse,
The warmth aiding the overall effect,
Porcelain turning the brightest shade of red,
No one mourns this lifeless body,
Forgotten and decomposed in this crypt,
Reflections of the departed in the fragments,
Stained tile holds the tale never told,
The pain unlocked the answer,
Release the fluid to reach the gate,
Spilling out into the still water,
Clinging to the walls as they weep,
The essence never leaves here,
Forever haunting inside the florescence,
Stitched together as if it never transpired,
Wiped clean from the surface,
Buried in the memories,
The name was on the tips of their tongues,
Silenced by the tragedy,
Immortality lies inside their minds.
Justice
We've become stains on the social fabrication,
The facade lifted for what it wasn't,
Falsely accused, we all hung for their crimes.
The Decay
Deep within the prism,
Where the falsely titled colors roam,
I am left in the withering decomposition,
All I see is the decay.
The sense of fear is preset,
Those who are blind see the most in here,
Struggling to escape the sounds.
Deep within the reflection,
Where the falsely labeled images remain,
I am left in the flourishing spoilage,
All I see is the decay.
The sense of calm is obsolete,
Those who are deaf heard them the loudest.
Electrical current runs through my body,
Lifeless and hollow eyed,
Growing inside the idea,
All I see is the decay.
With enough given time,
I become the decay.
Silence Spread Through City Streets
Glossolalia within the binary,
We called this life.
With removed eyelids,
Pupils seem so hollow.
Mesmerized by the shining lights,
Our voices die out.
Untitled # 1
I want what I
Need what I
Want what I
Can't have.
Within
Her blood on my lips flows in throughout me,
I extinguish the thoughts of forgotteness,
Reaching past the inevitable silence for a sound,
A brief reminder that I no longer live in that world,
Cleansed by the filthy decay I'm wrapped in,
Preserving my untimely departure,
You'll learn to forgive these indiscretions,
Passing them into the needle,
Softly I laid my lifeless skin upon hers,
The colors bled into her stomach; creation of life.
Untitled # 2
Spread the epidemic over seas,
Mass pollution of your planet,
A plague upon your species,
Failing in the wind we breath,
I stuck in this distance overlooked,
Passing the beauty aside,
She'll never come back.
Blood Stained Scripture
The thoughts of the divine have blinded those who follow,
Leaving bad tastes in the mouths of those who speak out,
Branded as an antichrist, I fit the role perfectly.
"If it wasn't in the scriptures, it mustn't be true"
Allegations of enlightenment thrown by manipulations of falsities,
The saddest result is the blood spilled on the "holy" ground,
Never truly reaching your destination you'll wonder eternity,
These false prophets lead you away from intellectualism,
Branding you with guilt, shame, and fear.
Indeed, their blood is worthy of being spilled,
In a world where the answers are in nature we look to the sky,
Begging to float into the clouds in a childish dream.
One day the eyes and minds of the masses will open,
And out will depart truth, reason, and understanding.
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