A, for Appetite

Approach me as I weep,
trance, stroke me into pretentious sleep.
Dish of the day,
An entrée mirage of perfection,
followed by haunting ideals and rejection.
Force my body into colossal transition,
alienate my whole, batter into urgent submission.
Dish of the day,
served with a euphoric sure
my hunger and I are combined, our thoughts completely entwined.

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Downward dog, downward spiral

Trainers on, feet flat forward.
Left to loss.
Right to rigour.

At the beginning,
Follow procedure, find composure.
At the beginning,
Inhale, come centre.
Exhale and purge.

Feeding an endorphin addiction,
An old friend watches from the gallery.
Obsession charges my battery.

Downward dog, downward spiral,
Eagle pose, soar sorrow soar.
The main event, lunge into obligation.
Heartbeats rising, skeletons flying.
Hero pose, hold me close, take a safer dose.

Battery dying, endorphins fading.
Inhale, come centre.
Exhale and purge.
Trainers off, body breaking, crying.

Assassin

Eyes are lasers,
Peeling skin, burning hours
Eyes are workers who will stare straight into my file, stare straight
into my arteries, my veins.
Decode and untangle if they can.
sever my harsh wiring, please unfreeze
my acid bones,
Study my destructive blood type,
have a secret.
Worry should not rest in your bones,
They will let you defy the law,
In this body I am the enemy,
Throw me away,
Before this poison ferments.
Only humanity will cure my condition.
But no donor will brave such risk, for now
And in life,
I am assassin.

The Circus Performer

Red lips, red hair,

They always see me.

Always visible,

Never verified.

 

Time never valued my face.

I, never valued my time.

A corrected relationship,

We drafted a contract;

Time, he gives me gasps, jewels, feathers, blinding illumination, ridiculous laughter.

I, leave time alone.

I don’t attempt to fool him;

The lion is always fed.

 

When I smile they all love me, they love those red lips.

A new crowd!

A new love.

Time will not let me mother my children for long.

 

Our relationship; lavish and empty.

He showers me in rainbow rain, dries my skin with the spotlights.

He’ll never care to remove the stains.

 

My red lipstick, the true leading lady.

When I remove her from my lips, put her into bed.

I vanish until she wakes.

My lips are put back in their box, no one will ever see their burgundy bruises.

 

The tent is fragile,

The colours; ghastly.

Red, they sure love red.

And white, they despise it.

I cry.

Red is our poison.

 

My lipstick is sure to run out,

My allure is already fading.

So bruised, my lips cannot harbour a shout,

My performance is no longer entertaining.