Slightly depressed has got to be better than completely warped...

This is a poem about a pair of star-crossed junkies, one of which has contracted AIDS, while the other is forced to sit back and watch the life drain from him until it's gone, entirely. In the end, she dooms herself by making love with him and presumably contracting the virus, then O.D.ing.

Yeah, I don't know where this shit comes from, but I have quite an effed up imagination.


"Fixed"

I see your phallus as a boil
I see your seed as parasites
I see your lust as an infection
I see your fever; seething fright
I see you lancing your pain bubble
Huddled in the corner, there
I feel me draining to a puddle
Blood and milk,
And, liquid flesh
But, still I try,
To try my best...

I used to see you as Adonis
Clever, clear, and crystal honest
Of all the men, you were the strongest
Of all the ladies; I, the wrongest

Blood and cuts, we smeared with grime
Liquid flesh and liquid time
Crystal mesh on shielded mornings
Needing to white wash the warnings
Needles, thorns of red, adorning
Crests of cars that we called home
Cars that didn't tend to roam
Babes we washed in burning foam

Of all your dreams, I was the longest
Of all my dreams, you were the fondest

I feel the cold, black swan upon us
Here, to preen the pristine white
A kiss,
For every feather, light;
Adrift, but stuck,
Rooted,
And, tight...

I feel you trembling;
Feel disgust
I feel the white and red combust
I taste exhaust;
Your seeping pus
Out of this ugly life, contained
Quarantined
And, preordained
Nothing ventured, nothing gained...

I feel your death inside my veins
Its portwine stain ferments in me
I feel the sickness spread in me
I feel the sickness set me free

I'm pregnant with the lives we've slain
Your side is where they find me lain
In dreams from which we can't revive
The cars we knew not how to drive


I think the influence of TW is alienating me from general society. - to_dizzy