I gave the voices your tongue to hear their words in the voice of another. How differently I hate myself when the recital of criticism takes on a separate tone. The ex-plosives are missed as your snipes detonate in an uglier timbre. The richness of that trill is taken as an ever renewing esteem tithe, gradually depreciating my self-belief’s valuations so the bare bones can be given back to the earth cost free. Would the words you made me delete have made any difference? They’ll greet me when I finally give into the bitterness and momentarily regret all I hadn’t the chance to regret before.
Bite me beast.
Feel this saccharine smile melt the rotting gum beneath the teeth in the same ringing, rusted tone as the "I told you so" that was never said.
See how fast the slack jaw snaps back to sink a saddened sully into your sore shoulders. Feel the teeth vibrate against the muscle - adrenaline promised you taste best when the meat is tender, so with open mouth, I'll knead the submission back into your rebellion.
Bite. Me. Beast
Savour the silence of shock, for that bite only ends in a wrath of stars: striking to transfix the minds eye, and feigning relief to hide a shattered grin.
The beads of your sweat dance
As glitter in the dull candle light:
Pooling in tiny wells of anticipation
Purified in the heat of subtle terror.
My beautiful centerpiece
Trussed up securely
A hungered entrée display
Admired with heavy breaths,
You're examined by ravenous eyes,
Traced by the fingers of libidinous desire,
For patience wears at starvation's tolerance.
Let sharpened blade be unsheathed
Let us feast on you
To satiate this hunger
Watch your warm entrails drip
With the remaining lucid seconds.
My pitiful meal, how shameful you've become
Watching your heart stop beating in love's cold hand
Razor blade eyes graze deep in the sin
Exposing the tarnished rust underneath
Dead layers of poison blushed rosy skin.
Remorse slathers its thick tongue against
Every inch of your grimacing, paling face.
Detached enough to only feel the spite.
Rehearse the pleas for mercy at the sight of
Extraction devices seeking to remove the
Decaying truth from the depths of your memory.
Realise that the crimson wound in your chest
Echoes with the wishes that you had started
Dying before you stopped the others from living.