'Twixt Man And Slaughter

An idea

Universal, so dark, the bleeding con

-solitary, above and so below us where,

a little bloodthirsty, he will not search long.

And if he can steal a bite of self, a taste,

somewhere between his scars and his mother's heart,

even this self-depressed flesh god, he knows his worth.

And, yes, when the red blood cells settle,

he will clean himself up for you, so well in fact,

surely, you'll think, only angels

could look so groomed and so neglected,

and how, you wonder, do winged children

fly without vanity?

Pulling sad faces from the memory

or better times, he'll be grateful

that you fell screaming for his 

patient ruse and he'll be dumbstruck

by your awfully talented stupidity,

and for this

he will hate and love himself more.

Hate and love himself more,

with every loathing breath, every breath

of loathing for breath and all that it touches

and does; all it caresses

and f***s. And he's just a specter,

born onto the hateful death-path, forever

unfulfilled by the scenery, and forever

unresponsive to the consoling mourning.

Brown's Silas inside-out, he scars

his internal organs

with the whip of better-than-thou,

                            better-than-everyone, flame

to his bowels. Be glad.

If he didn't value himself over the world,

he'd have killed the world.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

"he will hate and love himself more.
Hate and love himself more,
with every loathing breath, every breath
of loathing for breath and all that it touches
and does; all it caresses"

A splendid read and write. Thank you for sharing...:).................