I had seven faces, thought I knew which one to wear

Caught your hand inside a till
Slammed your fingers in the door

Fought with kitchen knives and skewers

Dressed me up in women's clothes

Messed around with gender roles

Dye my eyes and call me pretty

There are plans in process for building a tiger trap. They are detailed. They require digging. And safe guards. Symbol coded escape plan and buried life sustaining treasure.
There is a space picked out in the woods and I have even designed the sign.
A tiger, will one day be mine.

Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the milky way to see the lights all faded

And that heaven is overrated

In Alaska, during silent winter nights, obsidian skies void of clouds, I stood staring at a sea of diamonds; I wasn't just on top of the world, I was, the world.

you better lie down cuz the angels are watching

she closed her eyes and said quit with the talking

'you can hurt me do whatever you like'

"You dirty fucking whore, you know who owns you," woke me up around four in the morning.
Face down, an arm wrapped around my chest, a hand cupping me by the throat. He whispered again, so close it made my ear warm.
"I own you. I. Own you." he chanted it low, steady. I winced only slightly when his cock entered my ass and his hand tightened around my neck.
The fresh wounds on my back stung and the bruises on my arms were darker still.
La petite mort.

I'm moanin' for more of the medicine

In the mornin' you're wonderin' where you been

Just turnin' your back to the ghost

And tryin' to look like you just might know

That all of the good that you've seen

Just went down and into the drain

Phillip, sound asleep, rolled away from me. I felt the sheet slide across my hip as it left with him. The sun shone through broken blinds, stinging my slitted eyes. I couldn't remember when we had come home, so I was lost for how long I had been asleep. The stone white walls bled orange rust. It smelled like wet newspaper and smoke. Sin hung like a fog directly above us.

Eric coughed. The echo reverberated off bare floor and walls. Empty room, Empty souls. Filling the void together, by whatever means necessary.
Strained muscles made it difficult but I managed to pull myself onto an elbow. I caught my reflection in the broken shard of mirror on the floor. Ignoring dark eyes pleading, I cut out a thick line and breathed deep, the universe. I arched my back and stretched long, skin taut against skeletal remains.

As the numbness warmed my brain, I eased onto my back again slowly. Fluffy little clouds enveloped, suspending me above the abyss I neither considered, nor ignored.
Smiling, I ran a hand through my hair and wriggled; a little cat in her warm sunbeam. Monroe eyes, moved slowly over the golden glow of flesh unknown.
White paint shown again bright and the jewel encased edges of everything glistened, sending beams of light through the room.
I giggled softly, thinking of what I would paint. Tomorrow.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

The bedroom would have the sheets removed, mattresses overturned, dresser drawers emptied on the floor, dresser turned on end, pictures off the wall, smashed things, broken things, curtains on the floor, garbage everywhere. He did the living room once too.
She used to take us with her when they fought, we would stay in a hotel for the night, it was kind of cool, like a tiny vacation, just the three of us.
But we must have been a burden, because after awhile she just left us there with him alone.
And saved herself.

There'll be times

When my crimes

Will seem almost unforgivable

I give in to sin

Because you have to make this life livable

A secret, my love.
Demons rattling closet doors.
When the scratching becomes melodic,
hide your eyes.

And they burnt up the diner where I always used to find her.

Licking young boys blood from her claws.

And I learned about the blues from this kitten that I knew.

Her hair was raven and her heart was like a tomb.

My heart's like a wound.

Smoking cigarettes, sucking on lollipops, staring at white walls, enjoying the silence.
The balance remains, the pendulum swings.
I am wandering.
You'll be here soon, I know.

(For you, Dave, who reminds me to sleep and spin the wheel again.)

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