Ripped Desires

I was looking through a crack in the door
Watching her give  birth to a monarchy
Ahhhh Virginal soft skinned
But now…Wait!
My medicated mind
Screeches back in time
watching my hand slip down
Her flushed thighs… then she whispers–
The Maker washed the snow machine and its all coming undone
With the rains of London’s sludge that feed the
Rats and pluck the mockery wigs packed
So thick with filth
Bathe me in my after birth
Of ripped desires
Rape me with the jokers bells—
Then I cause ah cackle when the curtain falls
On the bosom of dames
That continue to dance even though the music is over
Candles burn dripping hatred
On my mantle tracing the wrinkles on my forehead
Lighting  my eyes on fire
Ease your skirts onto my lap
Spilling your ink
Dippin fingers in deep
Shake the quill pluck the top
And lay me down in the fields where mushrooms
Grow in the shit
Race down the cobbled streets and start the
Waiting for my friends outside the door
Faces pressed to the glass
They just wont stop living my life in mockery
Maybe I’m dead
So very dead on the side of the road
But before I go
I want to sing you to sleep
Lay inside my arms & let your hair hang around
Now My head has its tongue pressed to the ground
Its coming all so clear chop my dinner my dear
With the pestle and pummel, I need to touch
The dust that will become my memory
Run I roll over making a gentle sound
Run I listen with my ears  to your feet
Dance a tribal beat
Watch my eyes become bleary and blind
White and milk like
don’t you like me
Will you like me
When I can no longer see this royal mess
Try to undress my skin
Like peeling the drapes aside
Letting the moonlight caress my grin
Maybe im dead
Dancing with the trees that made such a mockery
Of me
it’s a good thing she birthed my special friend
That can dance on the fire of  my remains
Till the end
Until the end I will remain
Casting blame

~ by beingjohnsweet on April 18, 2008.