Rituals in the Dark

There are things I cannot help
But sleep with in the night;
Questions unanswered,
People unheard of.
I melt candles from paths the fires forged;
Oh they burn blue.

Rest my head on satin;
Threads of thorns wound my ears;
At last I can sleep soundly;
Blood trickling to my chest.
My eyes, they are revolting,
Climbing the Berlin Wall.

A lash of love drowned deep and dark
Against the hollow middle
Between the bedspread remnants mark
Water runs in between.
Soon I’ll hear hums echoing starkly,
Whispering as I leave my body.

Relapse

it matters not the sirens

or the finger on the button

seeds of lazy Susan

aroused her perverted killers

a single interaction

collapsed her twists and vines

the pill and the possessor

dragged the symphonic sound

whereby all her teeth blacken

draped in rotten groves

fog cowers in the mirror light

becomes invincible in almost twilight

the pill and the possessor

her lips laced with crowns

it matters not the sirens

the finger saved her life