I listen for the voices
but hear only the endless buzzing
of a thousand flies feasting upon the
forgotten decomposing corpse that resides
in the rocking chair,
in the corner.
The poison in my veins comfort
my motherless addiction.
Shaking in my skin.
Fear infested follicles of
my hair
alive, writhing, seducing itself.
Convulsing fingers spilling forth
the commanding powers of
my illness.
Dipping, dripping, tangled, mangled
it's all star-spangled.
My eyes seeing the birth, after-birth
spinal cord serpent
bone fragments protrude, intrude
my brain.
Pretty shell casings cover my feet
I'm in so deep
the rope has snapped.
I'm slipping, slipping
there is no gripping
my lips are dripping rose petals of love
to caress your anxiety.
You look to me
my smiling skull all you see.
Your anger, fear and frustration having
burned the flesh from my bones
years ago.
You share no compassion for me.
I am your skeleton
hanging in your dirty closet.
Wearing the soiled clothes of your
hidden transgressions.
Naughty, imperfect
dirty, infected
bleeding, scabbed
scarred
whore.
~Kory~
2003
