Such A Pity

Like a kitten that has outgrown the thread, I tire from the sight of blood. Once crimson roses have whittled to drab and dreary abortions. I'm running out of places to hide my treasured mistakes. They dissolve acid but burn so delicately. I can never get the smoke out of my clothes. Every method has been done to so many deaths. The Statue of Liberty strangled with scissors embedded in her skull, guts spilled to the cement flooding the street in cyanide. Such a boring sight. I'd long for more but there's nothing left. The world is a bomb ready to detonate and freeze us all.

Chemo

Dissecting this database of pornography at my fingertips, I ponder the fickleness of fate. Do lovers fall together or fall from dreams? The latest one rests as I drag her body across stones and thorns. A crimson snake follows us on this path, as if to say “Life is cancer.” She lays at peace in her decorative soil coffin. This makeshift graveyard is beautiful with the leaves falling like corpses from rotted nooses. It's so easy to envy the beautiful and their ignorance to the world. I sometimes wish for the privilege of sleeping next to them sometimes. To feel warm next to their frost as the leukemia swallows us all.