The words and flavours that burst
Out of your mouth, across your
Humid lips, reeked of exaggerations and
Untamed theatricality. Smacking the
Hot dogs of your flesh together, the pleasure
You exploit, resenting the bodies that gave in to
You and your tormented desires, your greed.
You look like a little boy now.
The outer adapted to the inner.
Death started in your throat.
Your rancid face behind a glass wall.
The bouncy lap, the detached embrace,
Forced and necessary, but you were never
Present.
They pray on their knees
And I turn my back on you,
These worlds are not compatible,
Your masks and your faces,
Eros and Thanatos, you constructed it that way.
Your helpless double lives.
I had been born into a cobweb
Sticky with intrigue and lies.
Trying to burst your bubbles
So that I could breathe.
You ran after me,
Addicted to the infliction of pain,
Grabbing my feet,
Smashing curses across my face.
I was raised by a predator.
I believed that I could find affection
In your depths,
But all I found was a torture chamber
Operating at full speed and power.
My tears taste of you.
My skin carries the weight of your insults
And chicanery.
My hair smells of your self-hatred.
My eyes harden when I think of you.
The dying grimace, the face that rests,
In sadness and a polyphony of lost voices.
Croque-Melpomene 