Killer Bee.

I do not exist

in the same way

This borrowed clay

will return to earth

at end of day

However, I

will be far away

Like tides retreating

after repeatedly beating

on the shore

Withdrawing

to collect myself

unable to crash

anymore

Water receding

to build a wave

that instead

evaporates

Like vapors

disappearing

I will fade

.

And wonder if I have punished myself enough -

Living is a sin after all,

One forsworn by the devil.

My limbs dangle on flesh hinges,

Torn apart by its wielder

Still, I cackle to the thinking meat

And tear it out of my skull

- have I fulfilled repentance yet?

and the skies will collide,

my bones will fade away

leaving behind nothing,

not dust,

not dirt,

not memories of who i was

or who i could have been

cuz during the heat death of the universe

bones mean shit and i am bones,

You can't leave, you can't leave.

It is danger at every side,

rain pouring down,

the sky growls and the goats hooves thunder on.

You can't avoid your awe of it,

the sense of being so small

amidst the display sent down by gods.

Wide eyes, open mouth and a fear

that causes the race of your heart.

This is what she feels like.

When her skirts turn as she spins,

giving you that sharp, sharp grin,

gleaming eyes and tattooed skin.

You know she carries knives,

but she never needs them.

Her laughter and her humming,

as ominous as thunder rolling,

her whispers like lightning,

her fingers like rain.

She is pelting down upon you,

and you are trapped by her gaze.

Filled with awe,

wide eyes, your open mouth,

where her tongue slips in sometimes,

and there is something like fear

that causes your heart to race.

she lives her life

like a shadow

in reverse

white hot

burning away

the darkness

not with

self help

books or

inspirational

quotes

but the

true

belief

in herself

and her

her abilities

to overcome

Im not good at writing poems.

To be honest,

I just bleed,

Bleed ink.

And it’s painful

And violent

And beautiful.

I don’t know how to say

I miss you,

And,

I wish you didn’t leave,

And,

I should’ve asked you to stay.

So all I do,

Is write,

Tu te manque,

In a journal,

Till your name has been vanquished

I am filling the flask with water, scalding water,

and the water is rising, slowly.

Between the steam I can guess that the

water is reaching the brim

Why don’t I stop before it overflows?

Because the flask is overflowing

like a flame fountain; my hands are wet

with fire and it is falling onto my bare feet —

Why don’t I stop?

My hands are burning

as are my feet,

but the water won’t stop.

I can’t stop it.

And here I watch in a drowning blaze as

what held me together melts away from my very

flesh, my very bones.

I can’t move away anymore.

And yet,

the water is still running,

my flask is still

overflowing