“The Candied Spider”

Falling in the black,

needles from decades past.

When life hands you venom,

you drink it with honey,

throwing up flowers and vinegar.

Devouring the red,

it goes straight to your head,

narcotics standing in your stead.

Passion and poison are one in the same,

collections of a home make,

keeping you awake.

Roses in your hair,

this fancy nightmare,

courts the craving.

And on your tombstone,

engraving.

 

“Valuable Therapy”

6:29

I’m dying.

I feel too much.

I’m suffocating,

I’m breathing.

I can’t tell the difference.

All I know is that they both hurt like hell.

6:30

I’m still dying,

just not dead.

I’m dead,

but still alive somehow.

My organs are choking me, my skin is too layered.

I want to rip it off.

6:31

They talk to me.

I listen.

I don’t listen, but I still hear.

Pure madness lives inside my bones,

inside my veins.

Nicotine for the soul,

nightmares for my brain.

6:32

Paint explodes inside my irises.

Screams echo from my fingers.

I’m an experiment,

an immortal,

a human.

[time of death; 6:33]