In this toy box I prey.
An embellished and ravenous abductor, I wait –
I wait for breakfast, for him to know.
To stab his steak with my diamond edge.
Bored of penetrating his eyes, I wish –
I wish to abuse his digestion as he abuses mine.
A symphonic sheer glass tapestry.
A numb bruise, only pretty pain lies here my dear.
Hardwired and hard to get.
No heart graces my frame.
No breath, a devious mind, and no name.
Master, darling human hands, you always look away mid wash.
In a silent swirl I beg,
not for your touch, but your glare.
Sir, glass petals will be our wings,
In opal blood clot clouds,
let’s turn, spin, and fly;
let my iron scales really shine.
Breathe me a memory, mould me like before,
when little brainstorm boy found his favourite toy.
Inject me, stream me some humanity.
So tired of shining patchwork, I scream to shine shy.
He blinks, his headlight stares,
again, another tidal wave asphyxiation, again, life is laid bare.
One boy and his poisonous toy,
Him and I, I am him, he is mine.
Our verboten romance is promiscuous and jaded,
raw, futile, and completely unaided.
Inside my beaded kisses tonight we shall tumble,
with a cherry drop knife his lucid dream I shall carve, and assemble.
A murderous Medusa, soaking in sad tie dye skin,
poor little kaleidoscope the muted tease.
Imprisoned in her own toneless overture.
Forever mimicking a coral reef,
uncontrolled, unknowing, sugar cane cold.
Performing in an individual orchestra, a female chaos thrives.
Praying for a monochrome fashion,
Fighting, igniting, and baking false passion.
Poor bashful brute, stroking my tube tightly, he knows –
My muted rainbow screams are today relentless, he hears –
I crave a pair of eyes, so desperate I am to cry.
I crave a stomach and face,
to be a mannequin itching in lace,
a harpsicle of honeysuckle veins.
The toy box tires, cries off his lid and floods his caucus through the window.
Spin, spin, spinning stalk.
A memory is moulded, boy and his kaleidoscope so gently abducted.
In the morning wounds are glowing.
Man crying, woman lying.
Their heads smashed, into one patchwork pillow.