Fright Sex

My monsters

ate me every night

as my body

sat silent,

but my spirit

fucked off

to wrap its legs

around you

and whisper sex

into your earth

while my hands

rocked you hard.

And it was

oh so goddamn easy

to soothe the other

but seemed impossible

to talk myself

back into my bones.

So instead,

I stayed the ghost

because I was the fright

and not the frightened.

Burn

No.

I will not prance around

for you.

Wont be your pretty pony.

Cute on demand

was not my style.

I burn.

I bleed.

I believe in something

more than this havoc wasteland.

Fairies frolic on the ferris wheel,

lizards lapping up the…

wait,

I get so distracted.

I want to know

what this strange heaven

tastes like,

what the angels do

in their down time,

or if theres any meaning

to anything at all.

The Music

I started to wonder

how many moons

I had spent

staring out of

hospital rooms,

hospital rooms,

hospital rooms, 

hospital rooms,

dizzy still from

the smells of a self

dripping out of a body

as the IV drips

under the skin.

And someone had told me that

these are the best days

of your life

yet I groan to the bone,

so I turn that one song Im digging

all the way up

til my body thumps

in time with the beat,

put that shit on repeat

until it’s just me and the music.

Get Twisted

Get twisted,

fuck shit up

without apology,

make dirty mistakes,

slurring syllables

into nonsense,

stumbling round

in the dark,

bumping into the

disgruntled furniture

that was trying to sleep,

getting frostbite

from locking yourself

in the goddamn freezer again,

embrace the hot mess kingdom.

Then dig deep into the earth

with bleeding hands,

your howls

heard to Neptune and back,

cold sweats,

faded nightmares,

rough sex,

finding heaven

in a breath

through ribcaged lungs

before hell

awakens her hounds

with laughter.

The Murder of the Jack of Hearts

The Jack of Hearts

was hanged for murder

in the wings of the theatre

whilst the symphony played,

and even though

I screamed I was alive,

climbing down from the rafters,

I wasn’t heard over

the percussion-

typical.

And just because

you asked

doesn’t mean

I was going to comply.

I’m not in the habit

of following directions.

I formed my path alone

with fire and

a dripping hunger

to go deeper,

into the earth,

into the water,

re-learning the nature’s tongue,

letting go of the past’s masks

and coming back

into my body

from all directions.

Monster Me

Was I the monster

that you’d been

looking for?

All scales and spit,

fire and wit,

sex and breath and truth:

no wait,

that’s a violent lie,

more honesty, Megan.

There were sorrow

and satire truths,

then

sweet and supple

untruths,

sprinkled with saucy sensual

half truths,

all mixed between surprising

soaked sacred truths.

Meh,

I don’t know,

maybe I was tired

of everything being

upside down,

tilted on crooked horizontal lines

that went out into

the universe

with such an arrogance

about their immortality

that the goddamn gods

had to come from

all corners

of the stratospheres

to demonstrate

the colder side of living forever.