Obliterater

O how I want to peel your skin off and wear it like a shroud. I want to pop your eyes in my mouth like marbles. I want to spit your blood into secret language patterns on the sidewalk that only the two of us will understand. I want you like only lovers want death; hot, sticky and seeping into the dirty mattress beneath us. I want to rattle your teeth around like gambler's dice. I want to bury you in my crawl space. I want the bugs to whisper in your bloody ears. I want the worms to make a home in your empty skull. I want to make a shrine out of your shining heart filled up all hollow with flickering candles. I want to be your voodoo poet. I want to use your body to write my greatest and most violent art. I want to make musical instruments from your thigh bones. I want to make a bowl from your hips. I want your muscles stretched out for strings to pluck as the night turns starless. I want to plant your genitals deep in my garden beneath a big rose bush. I want your body spread over the ground so I can pick up the chunks and sew you back together all crooked. I want your lips sealed in a great glass jar set up on the highest shelf. I want your fingers under my pillows so I can sleep close to you every night. I want to eat you for breakfast every day and throw you back up every night. I want your body miles from the place you called home where you can only be mine in the face of a cripple dawn down in my deep dark hole. I want them to never find your body. I want tears to be the only time your name is ever uttered again. I want your love cut into little pieces all around me. I want you as only a obliterater in love can.

Black Tequila and Blood

You seem to have taken issue with my ability to find purity in violence. I care very little for your religious guilt that still seems to be rattling around in your head long after you should have put it to sleep. I understand the beauty in nude skin bruised by my own hand. I see scars as a form of love.

A little blood, a little black magic, a third of a cup of tequila and suddenly the world is spinning. Swimming through my head like falling stars all swallowed up and burning through my stomach lining. You should come back to me, bright eyes.

I say we go out dancing tonight. Put on your best jacket and I'll wear something much too revealing. We can go crane necks until they snap. We can let the music pry our eardrums open. We can whirl about like spinning dervishes and husha! husha! we all fall down!

Come on, you little fool! Stop letting your fear hold you back! Come run with me. Come sing with me. Come burn with me!

Come take a taste of my liquored witchy black heart and let the world be enough...

The Night You Gave Me a Name

We sat on my porch over looking the alley in the dark with only the sickly orange of the street lights illuminating our faces. I lit the pipe in my hands inhaling the hot smoke waiting for the druggy effects to leaden my limbs just a little. As I passed the pipe to him he said, "Maybe we should get naked and roll around under the covers for a while." He took a deep drag, coughed and sputtered, "I think I'd like to run my hands over you."

I let the cloud of smoke I had been holding in my lungs out in one large huff staring at his face in the dim light. It was too cold really to be sitting out there in nothing but my underwear and a t-shirt with the nearly-winter creeping in but I huddled in on myself feeling suddenly hungry and just a little bit horny. "I guess I've heard worse ideas," I said watching the flash of a bat swooping into the edge of the light.

My eyelids grew heavy. "You know," I started suddenly feeling a tangent growing,"I've sat out here on nights when my belly was so full of worry I thought it might split open. I've paced these boards when I couldn't get my ideas to come together and the keyboard seemed to be more of a torture device than a instrument of knowledge. I've watched the local scavengers troll the garbage cans for smelly cashes of easy money from my perch over this alley. I made friends with the junkie hooker who lives down the street and comes to feed the stray cats everyday. Some days this few feet of space on the side of this building will be the only time I step outside of my apartment. On those days I just can't handle the world and the people milling through it. I don't bring many people up here."

He smiled a little looking at me like I was some sort of alien. I was sure I was about to get a laundry list of my more unattractive traits so I stood. I stripped my top off letting the cold air turn my flesh to goosebumps as I walked past him to the railing at the edge of the platform. My neighbors would have a clear view of my semi-nudity, as would anyone walking the road below, but at 3 in the morning very little life stirred around us. For a moment you could believe that your were alone and that the city wasn't crammed to the brim with people. The wind turned my nipples hard as I crossed my arms over my now bare chest. I sighed, twisted my face into the wind as my hair streamed behind me and waited for him to wrap his arms around me. I thought to myself, "Really... what would the winter be without at least a little heartbreak?"