lacerations

if it's not smoke blood and fire
could it be the end
if it's not dead disappointment and desire
could we still pretend

there is a perverse joy in
trying to wipe the slate clean
but the words bubble up from the bottom
ignoring everything we have seen

it sucks you down under
degrees of disjointed miasmic pain
the disinterest the conversations
spoken by deaf tongues

so the words are strewn
in gardens like the leaves
that come home after hurricanes
to be trodden under feet again
--
right swipe: madness

torn

a face torn from the bones
bones torn from flesh
a soul torn from the body
a body torn from a city

everything was given for granted
everything was so taken
when the sundering blade fell
all promises were forsaken

now the pain is a joke
that comes without a punchline
keep bleeding from the teeth
spitting blood, but it's fine

tear open another scab
what's the fun in healing
at least the wounds have a purpose
they give words to the feelings

---
gonna run this theme into the ground.

severed

the threads severed
with blades made of bones
one by one
they fell like tears of the sun

cracks in the walls
walls coming down
exposing the features
of a clown with a frown

the threads severed
his balloons float
away into the sun
seeking redemption

as the night fell upon
the dreams of the dreamers
trapping infinities
in the blink of an eye

---
Ever feel like you were going to explode?

rip

slowly i rip
pieces of my masks
tear up the strips
of skin
exposing meat
i am all red, yellow, and blue
under my skin
i am just like you
my bones covered in sinew
blood slowly drying
living, yet dying

--
Fuck it. I lost this somewhere.

incision

all it takes is one
incision
to dig the fingers in
poke around to feel
for what should have been
there
but the cavity is empty
like the graves of my elders
but what was i expecting
from this futile exercise
perhaps i should exorcise
this shell
to carve out a place
in my own private hell
why should i look outside
when i don't understand within
so i cut, slice, and prod
till i reach all the way in
in the end i will
eat myself if need be
even if my eyes are shut
i still need to see

---
There is a Stephen King short story Survivor Type. It's about a surgeon who is smuggling heroine in an airplane and he crashes on an island. It's horrible and amazing what happens next.