theshookfoil:

————-ROUGH DRAFT ROUGH DRAFT ROUGH DRAFT————-

Some go out like the click

of a cheap lock on a bathroom

door: guilty, withheld. Some go

out with defenses whittled

to a point—fine and sharp as shards

of diamond, misleading in their luster. To these

I say: here are my scorched fingers and my blood

stained hands. I have stolen both valuables and hearts,

and always, I run. I have locked my door at sunset

to sleep before an alter of orange peels and amber.

They say that Scorpios are the best lovers and also

the most wayward, and here I am again, tangled

in the spiny underbrush of my motives. Flush

it out. Burn sage to cleanse the spirits.

There is only one way to peace.

The world is a dimly lit opera stage

and the public, a sweating, bulbous

soprano. Watch her open her mouth,

baring teeth and porous tongue.

Flick match as catalyst and locate

flammable velvet.

Drop the small torch.

Be born again.

-Aumaine Gruich