There’s Blood Running Down (day 202)

The blood running down
The goosebumps: they fill the only void between space and all time
Lost in the backlash of over indulging
Slept on the wrong side again
Fuck, it’s the same in the end

The blood running down
The last breath holding the starlight deep beneath layers
Forever mourning the weakened desire
Forgotten by the squires
Prophesying all that doesn’t. Really. Matter.

The blood running down
The spreadsheets turning circles on masters and wizards
Poisoning the spells with lurches and makeshift cosmopolitans
Dressed up to please the ever indulging normality
Spiced with dreams of circle jerks

The blood running down
The only occasion left on this moonlit sonata passed these steps long ago
Streaking stains hid by the scared bits of light creeping in closer
But I’ve lost hope of these clever bits
My eyes grow weary, zip goes the bag

And there’s blood running down

In These Shoes (day 159)

Fueled by urban rush
Styling through leftover plush
The balanced hair left a little smear
Sexy walks and glaring looks

No, we’re happy in these shoes

Give me blood
And I’ll ask for scabs
Give me cocktails
And I’ll ask for napkins
Give me rainbows
And I’ll ask for the rain
Give me eyebrows
And I’ll ask for the lips
Give me hair
And I’ll fray it everywhere

Now we’re happy in these shoes

Deep Thinking (day 70)

Among the buzzards and bees
Flys swarm and stench radiates
This is death, raw and natural
Decaying corpse of blood soaked skin
And I face it, with unglazed eyes
Piercing it’s cold exterior
With reckless abandon
Ignoring the patient wolves
Hovering yonder
Waiting to enjoy their feast in peace
And I wonder…