When will these wounds clot?
Is it from pond or sea that
The umbilicus drinks?
I have no money and no morals.
I am without friends
I cannot speak of the DNA within
For I’ve no inkling to my beginnings.
–
A great many things will kill a man
When conducted in excess.
(Solitude is by far the slowest way to die.)
I have only scars and they alone entice me.
I cannot involve others in my suicide
However, impervious these cells to my efforts.
With each death the madness quickens.
I have broken men apart with my bare hands,
Bones a’splinter, organs slit from their casings
I am a butcher, a man rejected by death.
–
Today I am lucid.
Today I seek the one
Who has condemned me.
Poor, decrepit soul that I am
Do not hamper me with signals
With teeth bared and bridges asunder
Allow me only to pass
From these multifarious skirts
Into the great, abhorrent beyond.
Witch, skull-shaker
Do not speak to me
Of your unrequited loves,
Of your suffering
For it is my soul that has been stripped
And I’ve nothing left to spare you.
*
First let me say there is something up with my microphone which has given a very strange effect to the reading. I recommend having the volume low on this one. I had thought of scrapping the audio because my microphone is not working correctly but my reading is good/vehement so I kept it. I actually find the reading with the microphone effect, content, and delivery to be scary and I read it lol This poem is based with creative license on
Audio
http://vocaroo.com/i/s0xaYNHRuosB
For
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2015/09/06/wordle-215/
mindlovemisery 