For Liz

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Bloody Mary, bloody Mary

carve my heart out with your tongue

bury me deep – drenched in blood.

Cover the grave in white peonies –

a grave

to save

the soul.

 

Raindrops splatter the mind with blood,

spraying from your fickle fangs –

fucking fuck my brain with frames

of infinite morphing changing planes.

 

Don’t shed a tear for me my dear,

stare at the Moon and remember me here;

remember the purity of your fears –

uncruel intentions from the tolls of yesteryear.

 

I wait for you in this cavern my dear

a treacherous cavern laced with fear;

all alone and face besmeared –

your postcards keep me warm in here.

 

Fragmented memories – untrustworthy, unclear;

I hope to meet you again my dear,

where the dark decays and the light appears –

and we may dance again in the rain

without fear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting

I wait –

In this solitary icy cavern of black.

A box of matches for warmth.

Burning them sparingly I wonder and pray –

Can they last out this disgusting winter?

Seconds tick slowly –

each one sawing

deeper and slower

into the brain.

I wait

.

.

.

wait to feel the warmth again.