Cathy

Majesty

for my companion

I taste the moon in the fluid of every mind.

I lap up moonlight from every eye roll.

Every eye is a mirror that asks me why

my heart is familiarly reflective.

I taste the moon in the fluid of every mind

because lunacy is a very succulent truth

to my own.

And I was drunk on my synapses when I saw you.

The moonlight died. It was a hard truth to know

you weren’t a lie.

Why so darling in every step?

Why so real in every word?

Why so vibrant under such a black sky?

The moonlight died. It was a hard truth to know

you would never be a lie.

And I thought I knew drunkenness before I saw you.

I did not know how new life could feel

before my mouth felt your neck

and I kissed my own pulse.

Please, let me linger

in the majesty of me and you

even after the moon is born anew.

Total Insanity

for someone like me

die a little

die with red entrail flowers

and pretty ribbons spun

from open bone marrow

die with crimson hair

like a flaming Ophelia

in the river of scarlet love

die with the perfect face

to be known by your demise

die a little

and then a little more

Is Blood Like A Martyr? / When it flows down a gaping mouth and crucifies itself on the cavalry of eternal starvation / is it offering Martyrdom? / Is it martyr-like to live for necessity / is it my Necessity? / is blood like a martyr? / can martyrdom be ecstasy?

Die a little more

And get up from the grave

That never existed.

Why don’t you die? father says death is willful and meaningless and the meaning is under the corpse’s skin is the corpse my teeth is the skin my stomach am I killing myself into bliss or oblivion or are they the same why don’t you die why don’t you die why don’t you die

die a little more

and get up from The Grave

that Never Existed

DON’T WRITE ME A EULOGY

please

Gallery

Art by Karina on Fiverr.