that every no
carves unto me
like a suicidal hummingbird
into a dying oak

that this pain in my chest
comes not of heartache
nor disease
but the vindictive flame
howling at the canopy
in my skull
aching to absorb you

that the needles
on my twitching fingertips
itch to impale your core
to skewer and crucify
the unholiness within you
that sinned upon my grail

in ignorance, even though
nonetheless, know

I whisper to the dark
the ways of your defragmentation
swallowing it
with a bustling throat
long ago hung
chipping its flesh
with crooked teeth
and a scarred tongue
as my eyes almost
gouge themselves
lusting for their visions
of you

my desire watches you
in your restless sleep
for you know
dawn will never come.


Fairy Dust



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