Dew drained and dashed upon the leaves

Beading, painting leathery eaves

As splintering stamen loom bright

Crimson chunks like pollen on white

All sway as the rooted frame breathes

Two flames can occupy this space

With gives heat and takes fuel from here

Without gives warmth and takes your time

Enter With and erase your flesh

Be Without and you'll die inside

Nurture that which feeds both of you

Respect the distance, born anew

Dead things do not experience anguish

Only vivid flesh stings from rending pain

Charged minds take sensations against the grain

Beating hearts drowning in ennui languish

Experiential beings live as they deign

Trepane sharp tipped instrument cold forged steel

Brought bright vermillion on devil's heel

Pressed slow to linger in intersection

Stirred wildy in fevered direction

Reason ravaged from being forced to feel

A wail from a spiteful banshee

Ghouls clawing at the innocent

Changeling trades made most indecent

And faceless whispers feigning glee

Burning my candle to sunrise

Depth charges ripple from pole to pommel

Each nub rolls into their chambers and cracks

The push of tension before setting smacks

Ends back to place as the nerves start to lull

An old pleasure that in measure never lacks

Crisp enough to wake the senses

Putrid from bonding to the smog

Thin as discount microwave soup

Not nearly as satisfying to be in

Yet the still of night holds charm

Cracks erupt on a pulsing lobe

Shaped in poorly kept heat

With coarse and forced tears

Bitter in their birth and rearing

Damage laid bare by questions

All that was loose clicked tightly into place

Enough of me came to swallow deeply

Less of me could have understood the bite

Nearly enough to look at the serving

Nothing returned to hear its fading cries

Vacant sockets filled in to feel this place

Coils of flesh caved in groping coldly

On tongues, white gums copper tang bite

Some alien tone cuts into singing

Drowning out a sea of dischordant cries

The briefest flit upon the plane

Comfort lost in the refrain

As my wings fail to ascend

And the tacky trap makes body bend

Until fear cannot drown out the pain

I always get these cravings since I was young where I needed to do something I hadn't done before or I would go insane. I thought as I got older I slowly lost those cravings, but the reality was I started to suppress them as they got more extreme. I think I had a cognitive dissonance at that point where I ran out of safe things to do but I also had a healthy fear of loaing my freedom or health, so I slowly started to self-sabotage in small ways until I started hurting those around me. I convinced a lot of them that it was an innocent mistake here, a misunderstanding there, but eventually, they all kind of just knew what was going on, and at that point I lost all of my friends except those too lonely to give up a friend regardless of the harm. Can't take any of it back now, but instead of finding a healthy outlet I kind of hard repressed myself and gave up on those urges for new things. And here I lay in my crypt of failure and chaos, trying to put the door back together so I can finally walk back out it.

Each inch grinds together as I shift the heft of me

Pinch along the tendon's sides and feel where it pulls

Plunge the unzipper between the taut materials

And let my scarlet bones breathe in the sliver of moonlight

So their footsteps can paint the night with their iridescence

If I feed my bones to the vultures with the hands of my family and friends will I get to fly or merely descend back to the surface once they sate themselves on my nutrients? Will i then refresh the soil or stain the mountainside and attract the vermin of desolation? Do they then feed the scarce beasts that feed the vulturea, or will I then return to my family in their meals of desperation? Is my death a cycle of life, or is it a slow burnout of biology?

Throbbing thrumming unbecoming is the humming underneath the breath wreath flesh bequeath around the pound and sound drowned by my heart a part apart from the start as notions of emotions slow motions with potions to awaken the forsaken kraken draggin my mind to unwind and find the hind fangs crave but behave or this knave stays a slave.