Into the New

Sort of a transition poem.

The folds seem to move easier with encouragement

Ripples form, beginning to rip apart

Tug and pull, pinch and lift

My very skin is detaching from my hands

Rubbing on my thigh reveals the same

Taking each index nail, I slice the skin

Blood fills and catches in my nails

The muscle tissue smiles back at my scowl

Displeased and unsurprised, I trudge to a mirror

I examine my hand and the skin which seems to be melting away

I slice the shape of a square and tug at the skin

My square is really more like a triangle

Or half a circle

I rip the piece clean and peer at the under side of the flesh

Too much blood in the way

I run the under side of skin upon my tongue and suck it clean

Unmoved at the taste

I expected flesh to have a much stronger taste

My focus is on the mirror again and on my facial structure

Squinting, I question who I am seeing within the mirror

The image is not clear and seems a distant memory

Squinting again, nothing seems familiar, I believe

Oh, apart from the eyes

I think I have seen those before

Placing one hand on each side of my face

I feel the looseness

The old skin will not connect anymore

I dig my nails into my cheeks and they rip through

Glaring, I rip abruptly at the left side

I am calm about the amount of blood

I am  detached and move my tongue along the exposed tissue

So unimpressed am I, that I place the dead skin in my mouth

Chewing profusely, I slash the right cheek, shoving it into my mouth as well

I force the skin down, choking to swallow

Rivers descend my pale neck, staining it a dark crimson

It glistens anew with each jaw movement

I pull at my forehead skin and nose, peeling the remaining skin free

Throwing it to the floor, I glance at my new face

My lips appear fuller

Bloodshot eyes stare back at me

I open my mouth as wide as I can and feel blood spraying

I bite hard at my lower lip and bring it into my mouth

I bite at the top, gnawing through it as well

My mouth will not shut, pieces of my lips are escaping where they should have caught

I rake my long nails down my face, ripping the tissue, muscles and blood vessels

Howling with pain, I collapse

Torn, ripped apart, soulless, 

Is this what I am destined to become?

Reviews

[Devons]

An inevitably painful descriptive narrative piece, but compelling and comprehensive writing.
It almost leeringly, graphically, clinically works through its torturous imagining with a kind of ominous, portentous gravity of meaning. Although not 'conventionally' poetic in style, there are many poetic elements which qualify it to the genre. The message it infers alone is poetically substantial, and says an awful lot more about the 'human condition' than many more lyrical works that one encounters. I strongly believe that poetry should 'say' something, teach us something, make us look at the world and life in a different way - so this poem is enriching to me on that level itself.
A fascinatingly repellent piece of work: something you feel compulsively magnetising, like being unable to resist slowing down to get a closer look at a car crash.

[NymphetamineDame]

Oh wow, thank you for the review. I very much appreciate such a thorough and thoughtful response, especially to this particular writing.

I was in a very dark corner of my mind when I produced this.

[Devons]

Yes, I can imagine - but you translated that into something meaningful.

[Echoes of Eros]

What a veiled darkness flows through your transformation. It reminded me of The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, this hideous awakening as you look into your own fragmented reflection and gnaw away at your external form, seeking what remains of you. xo

[NymphetamineDame]

Let me tell you, there is not a whole hell of a lot left.

Especially during this period in my life. I constantly felt like an empty shell.

[Echoes of Eros]

Sometimes the whole earth of you must be torn away in order to find the seed that remains. And a thousand gardens can grow from that single seed. xo

[NymphetamineDame]

Such a beautiful way of putting it.

[Zoomout]

I love your writing , I really do

[NymphetamineDame]

Thank you thank you. :)

[Justin]

THIS IS AMAZING !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[NymphetamineDame]

Thank you!

[JC]

horrifying clawing rage frustration! is erotic in a way too, awesome work!

[Rob Santana]

Wicked yet passionate words your pen has bled. Awesome imagery. Great work

[NymphetamineDame]

Thank you!

[Zakari Schmidt]

Such morbid imagery deserves high praise. Your words cut so deep my eyes bled, we all look the same under cosmetics and flesh

[NymphetamineDame]