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BULLS-EYE
this flesh armor we adorn ourselves in,
so fragile - pounding heart visible through
translucent flesh like a throbbing bulls-eye
crying out for an arrow to sink deep, this
beckoning battle cry
WARPAINT
decorate my body in warpaint
crimson to show I've walked through
the fires of Hell & still come out alive *
indigo because I am unafraid of drowning
and still possess the hottest part of the flame
where I left myself burning, incendiary. *
emerald to represent I have laid down
like the grass , been walked upon but
still risen. * rose-gold since my skin is gilded
even if it does not glow, it is still precious. *
coal black as if I have been consumed by
the darkness that clutches and claims me
despite the light of day, still luminescent. *
*you cannot claim me or break me
(only I can do that to myself.)
for you, I will never surrender.
Battlefield Born
born on a battlefield
conceived in the arms
of enemy territory
blood & bone morphed into one
a being, a babe forlorn — forsaken.
how come we always believe
the best of us come out alive
while the hero is ripped limb from limb
strewn across the battlegrounds
without mercy, yet still survives
marred by bloodstains and sins
but alive, waiting
to be whole again.
Starvation
I will starve myself
until my body no longer
begs food; eats itself
from the inside.
I will starve myself
until my body learns
there is no sustenance
that will ever fulfill me
not love nor light
no warm nourishment
I am a desperate mess
destined to become skeletal
I will cut myself into bits,
guts and sinew strewn across
the kitchen floor.
I will waste away this flesh
digest my own marrow
feed on daydreams & stardust
a bottomless supernova
trapped in an infinite waltz
with starvation.
Fevers of the Mind 