and it’s an anima

Sometimes my head is swollen
& rotten inside

These precious bones clank
louder with the dawn

& I know that I feel this

The torch is burning–
lighting the night long and long

It has been done unto me
what has been done unto you

Undress your skin and leave it aside
begin to crawl inside

The nothing–
that surrounds how I feel this

Beg me for the freedom and I am running
running to the clearing

Opening my mouth stretching my hands to the sun,
my hands are bound

my hair’s down
& my eyes frown

& it’s a drawn out dream I breathe,
guessing that I am still alive

Fill me up with your hands–
like the blind who leads

Get the whipping stick
from your mother, she wants me to feel this

Feel your hands burn inside of me
& it’s a sweet sensation being a part of this nation

Do unto me
Undo the sun
Burn off the sky

& watch the horizon bleed
crashing on the sea riding the rafts of banality

my bones my bones

So precious bending to the pressure
of a thousand leagues beneath the core of the earth

Molten lava lips spit the sick bliss
crossing of the arms that shield a heart
from the shadow following behind me
whispering it’s empty promises for a better day

Lighting a cigarette, sucking on sticks
sticks and stones & missiles in toes

Blowing the petals of the rose to blanket my disparity
it’s a choice and I want to start this over
and I want
and I want
and I want…

~ by beingjohnsweet on October 2, 2007.