Penumbra

A dark, strange poem, one of my favourites...

Spine formed of golden coins and shining discs,

A soul that glitters, cold and

Unresponsive, in my bleeding hands.

Broken matchsticks, spent rounds,

Raw skin alight in

Dancing blue flames, weak and

Dizzy, cupped by flesh skinned of its warmth.

 

All wrapped around in gleaming metals,

The ice never set your heartstrings ablaze

In the pain that breathes life through my

Frozen, bloodless lips.

A cold grave awaits beneath

Stained ice.

 

Collapsing lungs bang brutal at my chest,

Tamed numb inside these waves of dope.

Glass hearts ooze within an Iron Maiden,

Impaled atop the shards they spun.

 

My waking nightmares spawn new pills to

Barricade me in this slaughter-house.

Electric stars implode the minds

Of filth-angels dying in the dirt.

 

A penumbra of good and bad,

Your filthy angel lies under the dirt...