Paint Me Devil

I felt wrecked and no land in version vision, that I could see. I could not save you, stop you, dress and impress you with fanfare or erotica. I gave the carnivale up to someone else, too much to ask and demand. Nevermind the mess ups, the past and future. Life isn’t stretching out before all of us- be glad to live at all. Staring in rooms with spirals floating,

 I listened to the hit-list spoken out in tongues of serpent mirth, old languages that most didn’t even remember. Ancient civilizations wrapped around a great sphere of knowledge, such as ours but higher in the atmosphere, the planes become in-material and so do materials. Leave behind the feature pictures and the feathers, just bellowing out of sound and sight. No fear- this is the animal to watch for, tear the eyelids out your eyes before asking you what you can learn from this, if you can learn from this. Whatever, move on.

            You got to goddamn stand up for yourself. Don’t let this manhole let you down over and over, only bloody wrangled writhing talk. No action. Monsters can stay in their fucking closets, for just a moment while you calm down and figure out the next move before dawn reels down on us again, the future was not preset. I will not wallow, sink into desperate mountains of shame and pity.

 I will write and challenge you death and suicide snipers, carvers out of some manifesto in the sky that’s got nothing to do with me. Throw down those rains and fierce sensations of the lame and dying: I will not wake up screaming. I will stand up and stay awake. Given in to the raven apprenticeship, I depart flying and forgiving.

            I stepped sideways into the alleys of the damned, fog drowning and stammers in the dark and dank. Pieces torn off like a bone to a dog. I saw you marked figures on all the doors of the entrance to the angels’ atlas. Let’s us keep up the loudless hauntings howls to the hierophant. We will be heard through sobbings and tortures of the mind that I know most but not all of the story. 

I was glossed with glitter and sandpaper, harnessed to the falcon that drives them on without the sound of our warnings. You dare not speak and realize that you are alone. This is a terrifying thing but grace came with the surrender to the otherness that we all are in each other, I suppose.

            Paint me devil, I can see it all and still bounce back inside the tent, the river running over us in the depths of the ice inferno. I was from the North, I can withstand in the bit torrent frostbite. Sucked through a coward, I find myself on the other divide of the natural world,

 ripping around through bodies and saving what I can of the innocence that was once there in you, stay bright and beautiful despite the sins ya see around you. Bastards that are the ninth gate, snag and slip through keyholes of the underworld easier than I without irreverent magic that forked my tongue too much.

            We shall ignite the hosts, this lady jesus is not going under into the stryofoam liquor dependent costs, fairs too expensive for me. Foster the care of another was digging deep but the inside brighter and the chaos swifter than the rains of Nashville, poor souls laying on the earth, watering the neighbors of deep fertile ground. Death played over my head a lot in the tides such as these.

            In the theatre of distraction, I lifted the angel to requiem- ghost in the spaces between the bricks and the alley floor. I reminiscent of the shades and beckonings of earlier years, months past for future reference helpful when the fires spark imagination and therapy. 

Restless and tired I kept to the feelings of instinct, discovery of tame and vengeful pathways to the mountain even before you started to climb up to look down on the rest of us just trying to make it fucking by, just barely. Untangle me and tie me back together, I suppose if you can- even if I am able anymore.

            further down this assembly line, I climb up to the electrical tower of dissonance and pathology. I can’t be hideous and venom it spat out to everyone around, I will shake that circus and lighting off me. Give me strength, get me a light and a swamp lanterns erect and I shall descend with you

 into the funk and drop gorgeous and gorgon-like. Medusa will laugh at the end of the day, no worries. I will not be stone in any form or other, watchtower in the night sky is lit up glitter and sunshine and moon leaves to go for a smoke and a shag.

            Mosh pit up the staircase to watch the chandelier fall, along with the guillotine and its saints surveying the disaster scene, deciding whether or not the life lost was worth bringing in help or support. Sincerity was for the faint of heart but necessary when the game came down to death and serious shit was going down. It was briefcase of identities that was burned at the beginning of the year

 and now I am no idea where I am anyone. Strangers give me hesitance for replication and divination. I divined out of you circles and speeds of light, former selves and incandescence. Fit me awake and notice that I can only be me, even if I am in disguise: trumpet ears, wings from another mother, griffin like sight and grief, chess playing was exploding my mind, tearing me to shreds. So many options and daily specials, I ended up just crying and going home, rocking back and forth in my carpet with the dirty floored dance steps and curves of my hips, round and round, twisting to dawn and daylight. 

            Wasteland and archery, I gave heathen pleasure a sense of purpose and approval. Profane me wrong about you, give in and let’s see how far we can do. make it out to step on the moon, I dare you. Open up your virtue and innocence and give me a taste. Keep with me now, steady as she wanders.